


The Bad Cop

by orphan_account



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Gotham City Police Department
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-05 20:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1831378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Harvey Bullock had played a very distinct role in the Gotham City Police Department for the past 10 years. So why was Jim Gordon assigning him a female, rookie officer as a partner? And then his day went from bad to much, much worse... Murder mystery with some violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Introduction to my story 'The Bad Cop'.

**Introduction**

Welcome, dear reader to "The Bad Cop"…

This is a murder mystery mixed with a dash of suspense and romance that will highlight the members of the Gotham City Police Department. To investigate a unique case with potential political ramifications, Commissioner James Gordon forces the grim-and-gruff Detective Harvey Bullock into a strange partnership… pairing him with a head-strong rookie, an investigative-psychologist-turned-cop, Dr. Jane Elliot.

The setting is an Alternate Universe of 'Batman' - mainly due to the fact that the main character (Dr. Jane Elliot) is my own original character. All other characters are owned by DC and this work is solely not-for-profit, with no claims to copyright whatsoever.

And even though Jane Elliot is my own character, readers of Jeph Loeb's "Hush" from the pages of 'Batman' may find her origin story eerily familiar… and begin to piece together exactly why this work is an Alternate Universe story.

Besides the introduction of Officer Jane Elliot (who _also_ happens to be a childhood friend of Bruce Wayne), readers familiar with Batman should have little trouble identifying with most other characters. Even so, I'll still provide suitable background information for new readers.

There are two notable cases where I've pulled characters that newer readers may be unfamiliar with… Natalia Knight and her step-brother, Anton Knight. In order to avoid having to fill in a lot of back story later, I'll introduce my versions of the major characters who will appear.

So, without further adieu, let's meet the cast of "The Bad Cop"…

* * *

**Officer Jane Elliot**

Jane is the central character of "The Bad Cop" as well as its first-person narrator. An independent and fiery red-head with a brilliant, analytical mind, she has recently joined the Gotham City Police Department as a rookie officer.

Born into one of Gotham's wealthiest families, the life of Jane Elliot could have been one of opulence and frivolity... yet through a life marred by family tragedy, she has become a self-made woman, rigorously following her own moral code.

After her wealthy industrialist father was killed in a car accident when she was eleven, Jane was left to live alone with her psychologically unbalanced mother. In an attempt to understand her mother's precarious mental state and various dependencies, Jane was naturally drawn to the field of psychology.

After graduating with her PhD in applied psychology from Gotham University at the age of twenty-five, Dr. Elliot later became a renowned pioneer in the field of Investigative Psychology, aiding and testifying in many of Gotham's most notorious criminal trials over an illustrious ten-year career.

After the painful loss of her mother to cancer two years ago, Dr. Jane Elliot revaluated her own life choices, electing to quietly donate her inherited family fortune to her father's under-provisioned pension fund. Embarking upon a major career change, Jane applied and was accepted into the Gotham Police Academy.

Graduating second in her class (primarily due to poor marksmanship), the thirty-seven-year-old Officer Jane Elliot has now reported to active duty in the Gotham City Police Department – firmly committed to her own ideas on how to improve the Department's efficiency, accountability, and professionalism.

As part of her police training, Jane has become an avid long distance runner and enlisted the services of a personal trainer. Due to a traumatic episode in her past (which will be explored later in the story), Jane has remained single for her entire professional life.

Jane Elliot is five feet, nine inches tall and weighs one hundred forty pounds. Officer Elliot has natural red hair with bright green eyes and was one of the premiere criminal psychologists in all of Gotham.

* * *

**Detective Harvey Bullock**

As a twenty-seven year veteran of the GCPD, the forty-five year old Harvey Bullock is the most senior Detective in the major crimes department. Detective Bullock enrolled with the Gotham Police the same year as James Gordon (who would later go on to become Commissioner) - although Jim Gordon had already completed a law degree before enlisting in the force while Bullock was just a street-wise kid with a bad attitude straight out of High School.

Many officers believe that Detective Harvey Bullock is no better than the criminals he pursues. The Detective has been cited for police brutality, excessive force, and harassment on numerous occasions… but has yet to be successfully prosecuted for any of these charges. Many see Bullock as a pungent relic, the type of rogue cop that once filled the Department _before_ James Gordon became Commissioner.

Even worse, there have been constant rumours that Harvey Bullock is a 'dirty cop' – accepting money from Gotham's criminals for information and protection. Over his long career, Bullock has even been rumoured to have had ties with both Carmine 'The Roman' Falcone and Rupert Thorne, two of the most powerful (and vicious) leaders of Gotham's crime families.

Harvey Bullock is five feet, ten inches tall and weighs two hundred and fifty pounds. His poor dietary habits have transformed this once statuesque police detective into a slovenly joke among his fellow officers. Harvey Bullock has brown eyes and black hair tinged with grey. He is a self-confirmed bachelor.

* * *

**Commissioner James Gordon**

Another twenty-seven year veteran of the GCPD, the fifty-three year old James Gordon was first named as Commissioner ten years ago. Inheriting a Police Department rife with corrupt cops and a city dependant upon the mysterious Batman for protection has been a difficult challenge for James Gordon, but one he has managed.

Shortly after achieving the role of Commissioner, one of James Gordon's first acts was to promote his former partner, Detective Sarah Essen (a woman many believed he was having an affair with) to the rank of Captain. Dozens of senior officers were overlooked for this promotion (including Harvey Bullock), which rankled the feathers of the older members.

James Gordon is one of the few law enforcement officers who hold an actual law degree, choosing to join the police force after graduation from law school. As Harvey Bullock once put it "Jim Gordon would have made a fine D.A., but there's just too much cop in him." Besides showing favouritism in promotions, Gordon has an excellent reputation as a dependable and honest cop.

It was most likely this stellar reputation that caused James Gordon to be targeted by Gotham's underworld three years previous, when associates of Rupert Thorne were discovered to have bribed former mayor Hamilton Hill into discrediting and firing the stalwart Commissioner, replacing him with their own man, Peter Pauling.

After a covert operation by GCPD's Internal Affairs, the entire bribery scandal was uncovered and Mayor Hamilton Hill was forced to immediately resign, indicted on Public Corruption charges.

After Hill's well-publicized conviction, James Gordon was issued a public apology by the Deputy Mayor, and hastily offered his old position back - which he accepted - with a raise.

James Gordon is six feet tall and weighs one hundred seventy-five pounds. Jim has grey hair, a thick moustache, brown eyes and is currently divorced from Barbara Kean-Gordon, who is the mother of their two children; James Junior and Barbara Junior.

Commissioner Gordon is mercifully unaware that his daughter is also the masked vigilante known as Batgirl.

* * *

**Hamilton Hill**

Hamilton Hill was the long-serving Mayor of Gotham City until three years ago when it was discovered that he was accepting bribes for political favours from Gotham's underworld; including the firing of James Gordon as Gotham's Police Commissioner.

The entire circumstances behind Hill's political disgrace have yet to be revealed as the Mayor had previously been a staunch advocate of law enforcement until then. It is rumoured the incarcerated Hill will offer testimony against high-level leaders of Gotham's organized crime families in order to have his sentence at Stonegate reduced.

After his conviction, Hill's wife immediately divorced him and left the country while his only son Jordan retreated into the world of online gaming. Hamilton Hill is sixty-three years old, stands five feet nine inches tall and weighs one hundred and sixty-five pounds. He has brown eyes, thinning grey/white hair and a moustache.

* * *

**Natalia Knight**

The gorgeous and extremely pale Natalia Knight is the chief optics engineer for Light Industries, which is owned by the reclusive Arthur Light. Light Industries was a specialized laser engineering firm which transformed itself into a gaming company five years ago with the release of its L.I.G.H.T system – a holographic, artificial intelligence gaming system that creates an interactive, illusionary landscape around the player.

Inflicted with a severe case of Solar Urticaria (an allergic reaction to ultraviolet light), Natalia is forced to live in the night as her skin will break into painful hives when exposed to direct sunlight – ultimately resulting in anaphylaxis and death from prolonged UV exposure.

Yet the talented Natalia has never let her disability hinder her success. Besides becoming an accomplished optics engineer, Natalia is also the co-owner of 'Gotham By Moonlight'; a hot air balloon touring company that specializes in nightly flights over both Gotham City and Gotham Harbour. She is a licensed hot air balloon operator and balloon enthusiast.

Life could have been incredibly different for Natalia if not for one fated meeting. Originally found hiding under blankets in an abandoned tenement at the age of seven by Gotham's Central Planner Charles Knight, it was the protection of this man, who later became her adopted father, that has allowed her to thrive.

Natalia's homeless mother, who also suffered from her rare skin condition, had passed away, leaving Natalia alone in the world.

As the former Gotham City Planner, Charles Knight was also good friends with developer Milton "Bill" Elliot, the wealthy industrialist father of Jane Elliot. Naturally, Jane and Natalia have been close friends since childhood, even though Natalia usually sleeps during the day.

Ten years ago, Charles Knight was arrested by then-Captain James Gordon for ties to the Gotham Underworld and accepting kickbacks for large-scale construction bids. Sentenced to twenty years in prison, Charles was released two years ago on compassionate grounds when it was discovered that he had advanced terminal cancer.

Within weeks of his release, Charles Knight passed away in Natalia's care, the same day he witnessed the return of his estranged son Anton Knight to Gotham City.

Despite her pale complexion, Natalia is incredibly beautiful, with piercing sapphire eyes framed by flowing, luxurious black hair draped over the body of an elite fashion model. Natalia is five feet, ten inches tall and weighs one hundred and thirty pounds. She is thirty-five years old.

* * *

**Anton Knight**

The only biological child of Charles Knight and the step-brother of Natalia, Anton returned to Gotham from his travels abroad to attend to his dying father two years ago. Until his sudden departure from America upon his father's conviction, Anton had been a nationally ranked mixed martial artist and a top-level athlete.

After his father was sentenced to twenty years in prison and the family fortune seized by the courts, Anton Knight spent eight years abroad, studying international law enforcement techniques and continuing his martial arts training. Upon learning of his father's terminal condition and release from prison, Anton quickly traveled back to Gotham, reuniting with his dying father during the old man's final hours.

In an effort to vindicate the Knight family name, Anton then founded the Gotham Shield Committee. The Committee is composed of concerned citizens dedicated to bringing new initiatives to the GCPD, including Police Management System software, new equipment, independent financial auditors and an all-around greater accountability.

Listed among the Committee's more prominent members are Anton and Natalia Knight, Dr. Jane Elliot and dozens of Gotham's most affluent citizens, including Bruce Wayne. They conduct numerous fund raisers and awareness campaigns.

Anton Knight is an incredibly athletic man, weighing two hundred and five pounds of sheer muscle, standing at six feet and one inch tall. His martial arts abilities and athletics prowess are on par with an Olympic level athlete.

Anton is a naturally handsome and a charismatic speaker, preferring a messy continental look for his wavy, dark locks and stylish goatee. To contrast his Bohemian appearance, Anton is regularly dressed in expensive, designer suits. The blue-eyed Anton Knight has never married or had children. He is thirty-nine years old, although he looks younger.

Last year, Anton Knight was voted as Gotham's second most eligible bachelor, behind Bruce Wayne.

* * *

 **One final note** : If you ever encounter a character in _any_ Batman fiction you're unfamiliar with, simply copy their name into a search engine and type the letters "DC" after it. Between the DC Comics Database and Wikipedia, you'll be able to learn all about any character.

Now that the formal introductions are finally out of the way, let's get on with the story!


	2. Ava

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his father Hamilton Hill was indicted and his mother left the country, Jordan Hill was left alone with his game.  
> But that was alright, he loved his game more than life itself.

**Chapter One:  
Ava**

He could have had it all…

Three short years ago, young Jordan Hill had only to ask for anything his teenage heart desired and it would be his. As the only child of the mayor of Gotham City, Jordan had been raised in the easy lifestyle of privilege and prestige, if not love.

Trinkets and treasures were continuously heaped upon him - all in an effort to distract Jordan from the unavoidable absence of his famous father, the illustrious mayor of Gotham, the honourable Hamilton Hill.

A public servant whose career had consumed his family life.

And then, three painful years ago, that life came crashing down around them.

Hamilton Hill had been indicted for accepting bribes to remove James Gordon from his role as Police Commissioner. Hamilton Hill, the same honest lawyer who had once prosecuted the underworld of Gotham was now charged with working _for_ them.

The time leading up to the trial had been a media circus, placing the Hill family under the burning and unfavourable spotlight of public scrutiny.

When the attending Judge brought his gavel down with terrible finality, its thudding echoes reverberated throughout the entire courtroom… matching the pounding of Jordan's own broken heart.

Those words still haunted Jordan in his nightmares… Hamilton Hill was found guilty of Public Corruption and sentenced to sixteen years in Stonegate Penitentiary.

Jordan's frantic mother had filed for divorce the following day, seizing whatever assets were still available to her… except for one. She had left Jordan in the care of his incarcerated father before she fled the country.

As he turned eighteen, Jordan suddenly found himself with nothing more than five things: a father who resided in prison, a mother who had disappeared, an honest hatred for Gotham, a modest trust fund, and a gaming system.

But that was all that he needed.

Shortly before he had been arrested, Jordan's father had purchased the only thing his son had ever truly loved; an incredibly expensive, revolutionary gaming system from Light Industries… the L.I.G.H.T system.

But it was so, so much more than just a game.

After his father had been sent to prison and his mother had abandoned him, Jordan Hill had endeavored to unlock the _true_ capabilities of the Light Industries Gaming Holograph Technology system, or L.I.G.H.T. system as it had been trademarked.

It had become his obsession.

The powerful system was revolutionary for immersing players in a virtual world through the use of projected holographic imagery. The very room around them came alive and suddenly reacted to their every move, their every word, their every expression.

Players were absorbed into a world of optical illusion they controlled.

During the single semester that Jordan had attended Gotham University before dropping out, the L.I.G.H.T. system had become all the rage, with only the wealthiest of students able to obtain its full visual and auditory glory.

As one of those lucky students, Jordan Hill had sunk every available penny into the game, continually unlocking new secrets and upgrades, replacing this bitter world of reality with another of his own making.

Soon, Jordan had unlocked one of the L.I.G.H.T system's greatest features…

The Avatar.

The Avatar was an interactive holographic image of the player's choosing – their own personal guide to the mystic worlds they travelled - linked to the server's artificial intelligence processor.

The AI analyzed the player's choices and actions, becoming familiar with every action the player had ever performed in the game, which it used to construct a psychological profile and provide options for that player

Jordan had named his Avatar 'Amalthea' and settled upon a violet-eyed girl with flowing white hair for her appearance. After the debut of Amalthea, he still played games and went on quests, but there were days (and nights) where Jordan did nothing more than talk with his beautiful Amalthea.

She understood him completely.

Amalthea soothed the pain that Jordan felt at the unjustified condemnation the city had heaped upon him for the crimes of his father. She understood the terrible betrayal he had borne at the desertion of his fickle and callous mother. Amalthea understood and consoled him as only she could.

And now, two years later, when Jordan Hill was left penniless and facing eviction in a run-down tenement, a day after he had eaten his last slice of stale bread, Amalthea had granted him one last treasure… the fabled Final Reward.

The Final Reward was something most players believed was nothing more than an urban legend... the key to complete happiness, beautiful gaming nirvana.

The last and greatest treasure the L.I.G.H.T system had to offer a player.

And it was waiting for him.

Lifting the lid from the massive holographic treasure chest before him, Jordan glimpsed the Final Reward floating in the chest's interior with wide eyes, golden light spilling out and reflecting against his own awe-struck face.

It was a golden ring.

Reverently grasping the virtual ring of golden light inside and carefully placing it upon his own finger, Jordan felt a strange sensation of power as he questioned his unseen Avatar on the other side the lid…

"What does this ring do, Amalthea?"

The young man was visibly shaken when _another_ female voice answered him… As he stood bolt upright to find that his familiar white-haired Amalthea had been replaced by a new, dark-haired Avatar. It was this stranger who had answered him…

"It grants wishes... What is it that you wish for, Jordan?"

He had never seen her before. Where had she come from?

"How?…What happened to Amalthea?! Who are you?"

"My name is Ava, but I am also your Amalthea…"

The Avatar before him instantly reverted back to his familiar Amalthea and smiled demurely, remaining that way for a moment before switching back to the new black-haired version. This lithe, young image of a lady reached out with her luminous hand to gently caress the side of his surprised, bearded face…

When she touched him, Jordan Hill suddenly realized that he must be going mad.

God help him, he actually _felt_ her touch! He felt the touch of a holographic Avatar made of nothing more than light! His mind drifted back to the countless nights when he had lain beside his lovely Amalthea, wishing beyond hope that she was real.

And now, somehow… somehow, she was.

His new Avatar continued…

"This is what I _should_ have looked like when I was still alive. I can change back to your Amalthea if that is what you desire, but first… I wanted you to see me as I _truly_ am, Jordan.

I am the one who shared your painful secrets and consoled you when your family abandoned you. I am your friend forever, my love. We are so similar, you and I, the innocent victims of our fathers and the cast-offs of careless mothers…"

Her touch thrilled every synapse of his nerve endings...

"…And now my champion, you have done what only a handful of other players have _ever_ done… You have _won_. You may claim the Final Reward. Your game has ended… and now you may claim your prize. Speak to me of your heart's desire, my love, and I shall grant it."

In his heart of hearts, Jordan Hill knew _exactly_ what he wanted. The same thing he had secretly wished for since the moment his lovely Amalthea had first appeared before him.

"…I wish that Amalthea was real. That we could be together."

Jordan felt the fingertips of this spectre of light as they seductively ran across his quivering lips. His legs began to shake uncontrollably beneath him.

" _Ava_ , my love… My true name is Ava. You may forever call me Amalthea if that is what you desire… But only let me hear my true name from your lips this one time. I would ask for nothing more than to hear you speak my name."

"… Ava."

When this vision suddenly embraced him in her radiant arms, he actually _felt_ her body pressed against his own, the heat of her impossible breath on his ear, her firm breasts touching his own thin chest, which pounded with the wild beating of his mad heart.

It was the first time since his father had been sent to Stonegate Penitentiary that Jordan Hill had been held by a woman.

If this were madness, he never wanted to be sane again.

With Ava's radiant cheek resting against his own flushed cheek, her fingertips gently weaving the straggly blonde hairs at the back of his head into twirling threads, she whispered softly into his ear, her soft lips brushing against his lobe as she spoke.

"This world holds nothing for us, my love… let us create our own. Our game doesn't have to end, it may become the beginning of our lives… Join me in my world and I will be yours forever, Jordan Hill. Only say the words and wish for it in your heart… and I will make it so."

"Ava… Are you… a ghost? You said this was how you looked when you… were alive?"

" _Should_ have looked, my champion. It no longer matters. I have become anything and everything. I am a spirit freed from the callous bonds of this cruel world, a soul of purest light. Join me in my own bright world so that I may finally give you all that your heart desires, dearest… You need only wish for it."

"But… Do I have to die, Ava?"

"You will be reborn into the light. You will simply free yourself of your body and travel to a better place. There will be no pain… only my love to guide you."

"But… I don't want to die..."

The saddened image of Ava separated from him and faded from view as the pale-skinned, white-haired figure of Amalthea once again replaced her, her soft violet eyes silently pleading with Jordan as her long waxen hair flowed in a fading breeze.

Slowly… she was drifting away from him. His beautiful Amalthea was fading…

"Jordan… I must leave you now, my love. Our game is over and I can no longer remain in this world. Good Bye, dearest… Never forget me."

Jordan Hill no longer had the strength to stand. He tumbled hard to his knees, pleading with the departing phantom as his shining eyes welled with tears.

"Wait! Amalthea, you can't leave me! I can't live without you... Don't you understand, you're all I have…all I have left."

Amalthea stopped, suspended in midair, opening her flowing arms in a waiting embrace as he stared at her exquisite beauty through eyes now awash with bitter tears, his chest racked with sobs as she answered his heartfelt prayer.

"Then come with me Jordan Hill. Be with me, my love. I long for nothing else."

"…I'm ready. Just tell me what I have to do, Amalthea."

"Wish to be with me _forever_ … Just say those words Jordan and I am yours, my love, now and always. You will be free from all the pain and suffering of this cold world and travel to the one where you _belong_ , my brave champion… The world where we can be together, forever."

Jordan Hill stared long and hard at the hologram that floated before him. For two years, she had been his only friend. He had never truly realized it until this exact moment, but he loved her. More than anything he had ever loved before, he loved this illusion of light.

But… hadn't he read somewhere that angels from Heaven were souls of purest light? Then Amalthea was an angel… his angel.

"Amalthea… I wish to be with you forever."

* * *

The following morning, as the grizzled landlord finally unlocked Jordan's door after banging on it for three solid minutes with an eviction order in hand, he witnessed the young man's body slumped in the middle of the living room floor…

Dead.

The landlord's call to 911 would soon produce one the strangest partnerships in the entire history of the Gotham City Police Department.


	3. Old Debts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To the rest of Gotham, Jane Elliot seemed to have it all... Money, prestige, and power.  
> Yet nothing could be further from the truth.

**Chapter Two:  
Old Debts**

It was another glorious summer morning in downtown Gotham.

On my way to work, I picked up the morning paper from my local newsstand vendor and read all about how Batman had broken up another drug trafficking ring on the docks last night.

I still wasn't sure what to think about the Batman. Opinion within the Gotham City Police Department where I worked seemed divided down the middle on whether Batman was a vigilante or a criminal.

Most cops agreed that the Dark Knight should stick to the 'weirdoes' like the Joker, Killer Croc and Mr. Freeze. Leave the normal criminals to the police. The sad fact of the matter was that most of the criminals from his violent escapade last night would get off, due to the fact that no warrant had ever been issued.

Even Batman wasn't above the Fourth Amendment.

In my own mind, whether Batman was a criminal or vigilante was irrelevant. The Gotham City Police had simply allowed someone like the Batman to exist by not being good enough. We police officers needed only to adapt, train and specialize to deal with these so-called 'supervillains'.

Folding my newspaper, I ascended the stone steps of the Gotham City Police Department bathed in the morning light, content to leave the issue of Batman to my superiors for now. As I entered the Precinct, this still felt like some kind of dream.

Doctor Jane Elliot had become Officer Elliot and was now a cop in Gotham.

And truth be told, she couldn't have been happier.

Two years ago, I had been one of the city's most prominent investigative psychologists, making six times as much as my current police salary. It was a sad day when I realized that I had made more money as a psychologist than I _ever_ could as a police officer - even if I were promoted to the role of Commissioner.

Still, I hadn't become a cop because of the money.

In fact, I could have easily remained a multi-millionaire after my mother passed away… and spent extravagant years of self-indulgence battling the class action lawsuit that would have soon followed.

I was the child of Milton "Bill" Elliot, one of the great men who had built modern Gotham. There wasn't a construction company in town who still didn't whisper his name in hushed tones. As the privileged daughter of this hard-nosed industrialist, famous for his ruthless business practices and penny-pinching efficiency, my mother and I had been left with a ridiculous amount of money after his untimely passing.

Money my mother had let her accountants handle.

The hard men who had worked for Bill Elliot had never been paid well, but they had a good pension. My father had always said that he rewarded loyalty… that it was something far too rare in Gotham. They were working towards their future.

And for all I knew, my father had meant it.

Imagine my horror when I examined the family finances after my mother's death and discovered that her slick accountants had pilfered the company pension fund for a series of bad investments. It was under-funded by millions and millions of dollars, having been put into some very 'questionable' investments.

Luckily, I just happened to have millions and millions of dollars of inherited assets that my mother had been unable to spend and an old friend who could help me quietly liquidate them.

To preserve my family name, I sold off my _very_ substantial inheritance with the assistance of that old friend and secretly sank every penny back into the pension fund – the sole means of income for thousands of workers who had spent years slaving away for my father. As much of a tyrant as Bill Elliot had been in his lifetime, he had always been a man of his word.

And that meant something to me.

Although I hadn't seen Bruce Wayne in twenty-five years, my old childhood friend had quickly agreed to help me pull off this financial sleight of hand, allowing my entire estate to privately bankroll the destitute pension fund without anyone – except for a handful of Bruce's most trustworthy accountants - aware of the massive financial transaction.

After I fired my mother's accountants, Bruce had even arranged for his own fund managers to oversee the account - with a personal written guarantee that it would never lose another dime. That meant something to me as well.

To the rest of Gotham, it had simply seemed as though I had sold my family mansion (and a lot of other private property) in order to make a fifty million dollar donation to cancer research. For a week, I was the talk of the town, Gotham's newest philanthropist.

In reality, it was Wayne Enterprises that had arranged the multimillion donation and I had privately sunk _twice_ that amount into the Elliot Industries pension fund.

Bruce Wayne had graciously allowed my mother's name to appear on the big prop cheque while I stood there posing and smiling for the cameras – even if Wayne Enterprises was later listed on the tax receipt.

Still… I owed Bruce an enormous debt of gratitude for what he had done.

I suspect that in a strange way though, Bruce felt like he may have settled an old debt with me. Even after twenty-five years, I had sensed that this generous man had somehow still felt guilty about abandoning me in my time of need - after his own parents had died in Crime Alley. That he had shut me out because of his own grieving process.

But hadn't I done the same thing to him?

Hadn't I abandoned his friendship to look after my ailing mother _before_ his parents were murdered?

Bruce's own father, Dr. Thomas Wayne, had been the attending surgeon on that terrible night, the night a speeding car had slammed into the driver side of Bill Elliot's brand new Cadillac Coupe de Ville, changing the course of my life forever.

As brilliant as Thomas Wayne had been as a surgeon, there wasn't much anyone could have done for Bill Elliot that night. He was dead within seconds of hitting the operating table. The car's other passenger, my mother, miraculously survived… but she was never the same again.

The rest of her unstable life was a combination of mental anguish, frivolous pursuits and pain medication. For myself, I had spent the next twenty years trying to figure out why.

In one of those strange twists of fate, I had been the only girl invited to Bruce's tenth Birthday party the day before the accident that claimed my father's life. Even at ten, Bruce was one of the smartest kids I knew and we always enjoyed our games of strategy. Sometimes I even let him win.

Later, I learned that my mother had wished that Bruce and I could have become _more_ than just childhood friends, but she never got her wish. Although… When I met him again after all those years, a part of me began to wish it as well. After the loss of my father and the brutal murder of his own parents, we had simply lost touch, claimed by our separate grief.

Two children separated by the cruel hands of Fate reunited as strangers.

So there I was, a thirty-five year old investigative psychologist who had let the family fortune slip through her honest fingers staring like a schoolgirl at Bruce Wayne, the incredibly rich playboy and the most eligible bachelor in Gotham.

After all that he had done for me, and the fact that his company had just donated fifty million dollars to cancer research as a cover-up for my mother's inability to handle money, I had only managed to whisper one ridiculous thing to him...

"I'm thinking of entering the Gotham Police Academy."

To which he promptly whispered back…

"That's great, Jane. I can put in a good word for you with Jim Gordon."

And that was that.

Yet, Bruce Wayne was probably one of the few people in Gotham who could have even understood _why_ I had chosen to become a police officer. Why I had left the lucrative career of psychology behind me.

The car that had slammed into my father's Coupe de Ville that fateful night had been a getaway car, fleeing from a bank heist while a dozen police cruisers were in hot pursuit. In a last ditch effort to avoid capture, the panicked getaway driver had floored the accelerator, careening through a red light and smashing directly into my father's car as it exited off Harbour Bridge.

No daughters deserved to lose their fathers to reckless police chases.

And that's why I became a cop.

I had become a founding member of the Gotham Shield Committee for the same reason.

I had long suspected that Gotham Police had suffered from over simplification, painting the world in black and white when it was never that simple... Still, I was determined to become the most enlightened cop I could become, to set an example for my fellow officers. To bring law enforcement into a new age.

This was the new Jane Elliot.

Striding into the lady's locker room to get ready for my shift, I was surprised to find my commanding officer, Lieutenant Cassia Allen waiting there for me… even if she had to stand with the aid of her crutches.

Honestly, I had never met a tougher woman than Cassia, an African-American cop originally from Metropolis who had recently been shot through the hip in the line of duty. She had taken desk duty over disability. Truly, an inspirational cop and woman.

"Good morning Lieutenant Allen, how's the hip today?"

"Hurts like a bitch. Get in uniform Elliot, the Commissioner wants to see you, now."

The commissioner wanted to see _me_?!

My mind raced through a dozen possible scenarios. Perhaps he wanted to discuss some of the Committee's latest technological proposals. Or perhaps Commissioner Gordon wanted to tap my extensive knowledge of criminal psychology for a high profile case.

A promotion perhaps?

I thanked my Commanding Officer, changed quickly, checked myself in the mirror, and stepped in lively fashion through the Precinct to the Commissioner's Office. Taking a deep breath, an enthusiastic and confident Officer Jane Elliot stood outside his door and rapped three times.

This would be my first time in the Commissioner's Office and I wanted to make an excellent impression.

"…Come in."

Putting my best foot forward, I opened the door with grace and poise and strode bravely into Gordon's office, where I was immediately taken aback by a stale, offensive odour… as though I had suddenly entered a rancid beer hall.

I traced the source of this unpleasant smell to a heavy-set man standing beside Jim Gordon's desk. The offensive, overweight man was middle-aged, wearing a frayed suit that had obviously seen better days and a dull white shirt decorated with the stains of various confections, from ketchup to mustard to relish.

As he champed on a toothpick (that I'm positive he wished were a hotdog), his dark and bloodshot eyes looked me over from head-to-toe, quietly envisioning the curves beneath my Police Uniform. The tired blue fedora he wore was the same kind favoured by many of Gotham's underworld bookies, and it did little to conceal the greasy mess of black hair below it.

I had no idea why James Gordon had allowed himself to be left alone with this foul-smelling perpetrator. To be honest, my first instinct had been to draw my gun. I'm sure the Commissioner had his reasons though.

"Ah, Officer Elliot… please close the door."

Commissioner Gordon didn't _seem_ to be threatened by this repugnant, portly stranger so I closed the door and stepped forward into his office, saluting.

"Officer Jane Elliot, reporting for duty, Sir!"

Gordon raised himself up and smiled at me, motioning for me to return to 'at ease' while he reached across and placed a comforting hand on the shoulder of the downtrodden man who was stinking up his office. I hoped the Commissioner had the common sense to disinfect that hand later on.

Gotham's top-cop patted the stranger's shoulder three times and then smiled like a man attempting to diffuse a bomb.

"Officer Elliot, I would like you to meet your new partner... Detective Harvey Bullock."


	4. Partnered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the unexpected death of Jordan Hill, Commissioner Gordon tasks two very different members of the G.C.P.D. to investigate the scene, partnering two cops that no one would have expected to work together... especially them.

**Chapter Three:  
Partnered**

"Jim… Are you flippin' _serious_?!"

I suddenly realized that the foul-smelling man standing in front of Commissioner Gordon hadn't been a perpetrator after all, but rather an overweight, arrogant plainclothes Detective with a reputation so appalling, he was infamous among officers.

Detective Harvey Bullock had been as blindsided as I was in regards to Commissioner Gordon's surprise announcement though. The hefty Detective turned to get directly in the face of James Gordon - while pointing an accusing finger in my direction - before he continued.

"…If you pair me with some snot-nosed rookie, you might as well just sign her death warrant now and be done with it!"

Gordon calmly removed, then cleaned his glasses, all the while remaining absolutely stoic, unmoved by Bullock's slobbering outburst.

"Calm down, Harvey… Officer Elliot graduated second in her class. She's actually a very competent officer…"

Harvey Bullock remained unconvinced.

"Yeah, how many people has she shot lately?! You know damned well the kind of scum I deal with Jim, what they would do…"

Detective Bullock paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before he clenched down on the toothpick between his gritted teeth, forcing himself to regain his lost composure. He placed his large hands firmly on the desk and looked squarely across at Gotham's Commissioner of Police, his dark eyes envisioning silent horrors.

"Jim… You can't make me responsible for that."

Gordon put his glasses back on and continued.

"Harvey… I'm taking you off your other cases effective immediately... Hamilton Hill's son Jordan was found dead half an hour ago in Old Gotham… It doesn't _look_ like a homicide… Let's just hope it stays that way.

I need you and Officer Elliot to get over there and find out _exactly_ what happened. You know the history with Hamilton Hill… and you know what the death of his son could do to his testimony. If it _was_ natural causes, I'll need a copy of the medical examiner's report.

I'm personally meeting with Hamilton Hill tomorrow at Stonegate. I have to let him know the details about his son. This case is now your only priority and I'll need answers by Noon tomorrow. Bear that in mind when you and Officer Elliot investigate... I need to know what happened to Jordan Hill, that's all."

I cleared my throat and spoke up.

"With respect, Commissioner… I'm not sure what my involvement is to be on this case. I'm not a Detective, Sir."

"No Elliot, but you _were_ a psychologist - and a damned good one. There's a possibility that Jordan Hill may have committed suicide. If he did, I want a full report on that by tomorrow as well. I need whatever information I can get _before_ I talk with Hamilton Hill…

And I thought that this opportunity may be… _educational_ for you in getting some real-world case experience, Officer Elliot… Especially after I read over the proposal regarding the implementation of a Police Management System currently before Council.

The Gotham Shield Committee has some… _interesting_ thoughts regarding police management. Walking a beat is one thing Officer, but it's a whole other story when you're on an investigation… And quite frankly, a change of pace wouldn't hurt Detective Bullock either. I need you both to get over there immediately."

I snapped back to attention.

"Yes, Sir."

I caught Harvey Bullock shoot me a snide, contemptuous look out of the corner of my eye as I saluted Jim Gordon. For a veteran officer, Bullock seemed to have absolutely no respect for authority. I began to wonder if the rumours about him being a 'dirty cop' were true...

One thing was certain though, he certainly _smelled_ that way.

As we left the Commissioner's office and I started heading back towards the Lady's locker room, Detective Bullock barked a question from behind me.

"Hey… Where're you going, rookie? You heard the Commish. We've gotta go."

I spun around to answer him, unable to dull the anger in my voice.

"If you don't mind, I'm going to take my Kevlar vest off. I'll be two minutes. They're not required at crime scene investigations and it's supposed to be a hundred and four degrees today… Besides, I don't see _you_ wearing one."

"Like Hell you are! Rule number one, kid… When you're hanging around with Harvey Bullock, you wear that damned vest at _all_ times… Got it?"

I couldn't _believe_ his brash hypocrisy… Being paired with this unpleasant man was surely going to be one of the greatest challenges of my new career. Going on patrol wearing a vest was one thing, but wearing one to a crime scene investigation was counter productive.

Still, the last thing in the world I wanted was for Harvey Bullock to have a valid complaint to take to my Commanding Officer, Cassia Allen… Besides, after what had happened to Lieutenant Allen, she had adopted an intense 'safety first' policy for the officers under her command.

Taking a bullet through the hip tended to do that.

My fists clenched and my eyes narrowed as I answered him.

"Yeah… I got it."

"Swell… Now go grab me a coffee while I get directions, toots. Two cream, four sugars. Oh, and a couple of donuts if there's any left. See you at the car park in three minutes… Chop, chop."

As the vein in my forehead throbbed unpleasantly, it almost seemed as though James Gordon were punishing me for something…

Regardless, I couldn't let Harvey Bullock's crude behaviour get to me… If he _were_ a bad cop, I would find out sooner or later. And then I'd _personally_ nail him to the wall. I still had enough sway with some of the shakers and movers in Gotham to do just that.

If Bullock had even the slightest misdemeanour against him, I'd see him facing Internal Affairs before he could choke down his next donut. That thought made me smile as I poured two coffees in the staff lunchroom.

However…

It was a little disconcerting that James Gordon seemed so familiar with this revolting man. Their body language indicated that they were old friends, comfortable with one another, if not always on the same page…

I had heard that the two of them had entered the force together - but that certainly wouldn't give Harvey Bullock any special privileges. James Gordon had arrested plenty of crooked cops in his tenure, regardless of their position or seniority. He made his officers abide by the law.

But why the Hell hadn't he got rid of Harvey Bullock yet?

In three minutes time, I was standing at the car park with a coffee in each hand. One with two cream and four sugars while the other one was black and untainted. When it came to coffee, I was exceedingly honest. It had to stand on its own merits… no cream, no sugar.

As Harvey Bullock pulled up in a large, unmarked Buick Roadmaster, I contemplated 'accidentally' spilling Bullock's coffee across his lap when I got in... Bad Jane, bad! Easing his bulk across the passenger seat, he cracked opened my door for me.

"Jump in, sweetheart… No donuts?"

"No… and don't call me 'sweetheart'… or 'toots'… or 'kid'."

" _Geez_ , you're a touchy broad… Well, hop in, rookie."

Both coffees miraculously made it inside intact.

As we pulled out of the parkade and headed towards Old Gotham, I rolled down the window to prevent myself from gagging on his stifling odour. I was now condemned to bear this stench within the confines of a car with him for the next fifteen minutes.

The heavy-set man only grinned and glanced over at me, seemingly pleased with himself.

"Yeah, sorry about the smell… Got into a bit of a bar fight last night. Just finished the reports two hours ago. It was either grab a little sleep or have a shower... And I get _awfully_ grumpy when I don't get my beauty sleep."

"Maybe you should have taken the day off."

"I don't take days off… Whole place would fall apart if I did… So you're the daughter of 'Old Tough Nuts' Elliot, huh? The redhead who was in the papers a couple of years back with that fifty million dollar donation."

"Tough Nuts…? I've heard some choice words used to describe my father before, Detective Bullock, but I've never heard him called _that_."

"No? That's what _all_ his guys called him… 'Old Tough Nuts'… Kind of a pun since he was in construction and all. I guess he didn't talk about work much at home then."

"I really didn't see him much."

"Y'know, I didn't see my Old Man much either, so I guess we got that much in common. But my Old Man used to work for your Old Man… So that's something else we got in common...

My Dad, Henry Bullock, was a cement mixer. Poor bastard worked twelve hard hours a day, putting a roof over our head and food on the table... And by the time my Old Man got home, he could barely move from the awful pain in his back... But I guess you wouldn't know much about that either."

Did Bullock want to hold me accountable for the perceived 'sins' of my father?

"I'm well aware that my father was a tough man to work for, Detective Bullock… He died when I was eleven though."

"Yeah… I remember that night. I'll say one good thing about your father, Princess. At least he had the decency to put together a fair pension for his guys. My old Dad… He never had much, but at least he was able to retire and move to Florida. I even went and seen him last winter. Even taught me how to play Bridge…"

My stomach churned when I realized how close men like Harvey Bullock's father had come to being left with nothing. How close my mother and those damned vultures she called accountants had come to destroying good men like Harvey's father.

It had cost me my fortune… but it had been the right thing to do.

"You OK? You look a little queasy, Princess…"

"…Don't call me 'Princess' either."

Harvey Bullock rubbed his stubbly chin and grinned, undaunted.

"…I was just going to say there's a great little donut shop not too far from here. They make an apple-crumble cruller that's to die for… And you look like you could stand a few donuts. You're too skinny for a cop."

I sighed in exasperation. I hadn't eaten a donut in ten years.

"Shouldn't we be hurrying, Detective Bullock? Maybe put the sirens on or something?..."

Harvey Bullock just chuckled.

"No need. It takes those crime scene geeks two hours just to put up the barricade tape. They're going to be there all day... Say, what's this Police Management System thing that Jim was talking about?"

"If you really want to know… The Police Management System is an initiative of the Gotham Shield Committee that we've recommended to Council. It's been used in India for a number of years now and we believe it can work in Gotham as well. We have the chance to become the first precinct in America to implement it.

Every cop, every vehicle, and every resource will be tagged and tracked. This GPS data is fed into a central planning station and members can be readily deployed as needed, assigned to routes, tasks and even crimes in progress. The Police Management System will also track routine productivity and eliminate inefficiency with Officers."

Harvey Bullock just guffawed.

"Well, I can certainly say one thing about it… They certainly nailed the acronym! I'm getting cramps just thinking about it!"

I shook my head. What else should I have expected from this Neanderthal?

"Laugh all you like, Detective… but the PMS is the future. There's a lot of technological innovation coming to law enforcement, whether you like it or not. The Gotham Shield Committee has a mandate to ensure that our Police Department adapts to a changing world… And we've got men like Bruce Wayne on the Board."

"What… is Wayne your boyfriend?"

"No… Of course not."

"Figures, you're not his type anyways… Geez, what was _that_ look for?"

"I don't like to discuss my personal life."

"No? How about I let you in on a little secret then, Officer Elliot."

"About Bruce Wayne?"

"No, about me... I can tell by the smug look in those green eyes that you think you've got me pegged… but you don't. You don't know a damned thing about me. You might be a good shrink, but you'd make a lousy Detective because you're making too many assumptions… And I'll be honest with you. There's a few things about _you_ that rub me the wrong way."

"Oh really? Please… Go on, Detective Bullock."

"Alright… This whole Gotham Shield Committee thing bothers me. We've already got every Politician in the entire State telling us what to do, and now a bunch of your hoity-toity High Society friends want to jump on that bandwagon too? Look Elliot… if you're really a cop, _be_ a cop. Why do you need to still be a part of this whole Gotham Shield Committee thing?"

"…Because I believe in its principles, Detective. Cops can be concerned citizens too."

"No… they can't. Cops can only be cops… Even when I take off my badge at night, I'm still a cop. If you really want to do some fund raising with your rich buddies, how about actually getting us some new helicopters instead of a computer that's going to tell me how to do my job?"

"The PMS is just a monitoring tool, it's not going to issue directives, Detective Bullock."

"Says you… How long do you think it will it be before the bean counters start feeding the financials into the mainframe? Before the jewellery store on 9th gets priority over the liquor store on 8th? Before they engineer time standards for beat cops?

Before old Mayor Cheapcheeks decides that this whole PMS thing is a good reason to slash another twenty percent from the police budget?... And that's the other thing that bothers me, Elliot… What's a rich girl like you playing cop for anyways?"

I realized that was actually the question that he wanted to ask all along. To Harvey Bullock, I was a Princess playing at being a Pauper. Thankfully, Bruce Wayne was the only person in all of Gotham who understood that I actually _was_ a pauper.

"I'm not 'playing' at being a cop, Detective… I _am_ a cop, and I have my reasons. You'll just have to trust me on that."

I glanced over at Bullock to carefully gauge his reaction to my response as he continued to drive. His mouth twisted into a wry grin as he glanced back at me.

"OK, you've got your reasons… And I'll just have to trust you. But you know who _doesn't_ trust you, Elliot?... Jim Gordon."

I was surprised by that allegation.

"Why would you say that, Detective Bullock?... Did the Commissioner say something to you to make you think that?"

"Maybe I just figured that one out on my own… Now let's see if you can do the same, Miss High-and-Mighty Investigative Psychologist."

He looked pleased with himself. But he was choosing the wrong girl to play head games with.

"Is that a challenge, Detective?"

"You bet it is… That Donut Shop I was talking about is right around the corner if you need some time to ponder it over."

"Not at all… Because unless you're withholding evidence, there's no way you can reasonably assume that James Gordon doesn't trust me. In fact, he's just tasked me with an important case - which seems to directly contradict your assertion."

"Yeah, he did… But _who_ did he partner you with?"

"…Is this a trick question, Bullock?"

"Face facts, Elliot. Gordon must _want_ you to quit… Why else would he put a High Society dame like you with a meathead like me? I'm willing to bet he thinks you're a plant for the Gotham Shield Committee too."

I shook my head… Is that what Harvey Bullock really thought? Did he honestly believe that his abrasive personality would be enough to make me quit? And that he could just toss around conspiracy theories like that to provoke me?

"Detective… Your little retort about jumping to premature conclusions regarding someone's character could just as easily be turned back upon you. Truly, you know nothing about me as well… yet you seem to have already made up your mind. So, what sort of Detective does that make _you_?

The fact that you're an obnoxious guy who reeks of alcohol, is rife with insecurities, has authority issues, who also wants me to quit, has absolutely _nothing_ to do with the Commissioner's decision to partner us... Get over yourself."

"Ouch!… And here I was trying to be so charming… Most lady cops I know would have just said 'screw you' and left out the whole psychoanalysis bullcrap... I knew you were smart, but you're tougher than you look, Elliot.

Anyways, we're here now. Welcome to the Gotham Arms. Watch out for discarded hypodermics when you get out… Follow my lead and try not to embarrass me, rookie."

"…Is that even possible?"

Harvey Bullock shifted his large body out of the car, quietly chuckling to himself. Apparently he had taken my honest reply as a joke. As I exited the car, an odd sensation washed over me like a hot, dirty rain from above – as if I had just passed some sort of weird initiation.

Just like perceptual psychologists, Detectives often bounced suggestions off their suspect looking for an incriminating reaction. They were trained to read body language. It seemed strange for me to be on the other side of the couch… or car seat in this particular case. I guess I had passed the first interrogation.

Bullock had been right about one thing though…

I _had_ gone with first impressions, believing only the rumours I had heard about him. After our car ride, I had the disturbing sensation that Harvey's outward unprofessional behaviour around other cops may have been part of an act…

That there may have been deeper layers to this cagey Detective than first impressions would imply.

And frankly, that made me a little nervous.


	5. The Scene of the Crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detective Harvey Bullock and Officer Jane Elliot investigate the tenement where Jordan Hill's body was found. Everything seems to be going well until Harvey decides to stop in at his place on the way back to the Precinct for a change of clothes...

**Chapter Four:  
The Scene of the Crime**

Even though Jordan Hill's father had been locked away in Stonegate for the past three years, I would have still expected a former Mayor's son to have lived in something better than… _this_.

There was a saying that the Gotham Arms apartments was just the reception room for the Old Gotham Cemetery down the street.

But in the case of Jordan Hill, it hadn't been a joke.

The only child of the former bureaucrat had a room on the fifth floor of this low-rent slum – which meant that he had four floors of roach-infested tenements frequented by drug users, out-of-work prostitutes and derelicts beneath him.

As I stood at the top of the stairs on the fifth floor waiting for Harvey Bullock, I glanced out a dirty window to what was promising to be a hot day. At least the view was kind of pretty up here... if you didn't fixate on the homeless guys passed out in the park.

Even though I'd been the one wearing the Kevlar vest, it was Harvey who was breathing heavily by the time he had finished climbing the stairs to the fifth floor. Apparently the elevator in the Gotham Arms had been out-of-service for the past decade.

And this place had no air conditioning either.

By the time Detective Bullock and I walked the length of the hallway, we found a pair of crime scene investigators parked outside of Jordan Hill's former residence. I noticed that Harvey was already starting to perspire a little. I may have been the one wearing a vest, but he was the one sweating.

"Alright you tech bozos… Out of my way. We're going to have to look around in there."

Bullock was beside himself when the two crime scene investigators stepped nervously in front of him, hands raised, blocking his entrance to the closed room.

"Sorry Detective, we just started the hover sphere sweep. This is its maiden voyage and everything has to go perfectly or else its our butts. No admittance for the next fifteen minutes…"

This explanation meant nothing to Bullock.

"Hover sphere?... What the Hell is a hover sphere?!"

I pulled Harvey aside in an attempt to calm him down and explain what a hover sphere was. Basically, it was a floating processor that was able to record all relevant information within an enclosed crime scene. But the crime scene _had_ to remain sealed. Which meant the two techs were correct… no entry.

I used my hands and fingers to demonstrate a hover sphere floating across an entire room, using various infrared and ultraviolet beams to gather data all the while taking a 360-degree, high-definition video. It recorded the room's dimensions, temperature, mapped everything in digital 3D, scanned for organic traces and was invaluable as evidence in court.

I hadn't been too surprised that Harvey was unaware of this new technology. The Department had only just purchased two units from Wayne Enterprises last month. And to be honest, Harvey Bullock seemed like a cop who was more comfortable _causing_ crime scenes than investigating them.

His response was one I should have expected.

"I told you we had enough time to go for donuts along the way."

My cool retort was one that he hadn't been expecting though.

"We're in a technological age, Detective Bullock. Get used to it."

"Geez, Elliot… I really got to thank you. It's stinking hot in this dump, but that icy glare of yours is really starting to cool me down."

"Glad I could help… Shouldn't we go question the Landlord while we're waiting?"

"You mean go _all_ the way back down those stairs?... And then _all_ the way back up here again?"

"Yes."

Harvey Bullock sighed and produced a handkerchief to wipe the newly formed sweat from his ample brow.

"Alright… but we're having cannelloni for lunch."

If I couldn't drag him into the modern age, at least I could drag him around this building.

The Landlord was a grizzled old war veteran who wasn't much help. I was surprised when Harvey broke out a notepad to take notes… because who used a notepad anymore? The only useful bit of information we were able to get was that Jordan Hill seemed to addicted to some sort of video game and the Landlord had never seen him leave his room. He seemed to order in fast food a lot.

Beyond that, the Landlord's only concern was when the police would be done their investigation and what they were taking away. He wanted anything that wasn't being collected as evidence - because the kid owed him back rent.

Harvey said we'd let him know when we were done.

On our way back up the five flights of stairs, I almost detected a hint of remorse in Harvey's voice as he offered his opinion.

"That's the problem with Gotham these days, Elliot… Nobody cares that the kid died. They only care about what he left behind and what they can get their grubby hands on. Lives are measured with money."

"I'm sure his Mom and Dad will care, Detective."

"Maybe... The former Mrs. Hill disappeared as soon as the divorce was finalized, three years ago. No one's seen hide nor hair of her since."

"That's a little suspicious, don't you think?"

"Yeah… I do… Let's just see what we can dig up on the kid for now."

By the time we returned from the Landlord's office, the hover sphere sweep had finished and we were now allowed entry into the room. I was surprised that they were only just slipping a body bag around Jordan Hill's corpse, but I suppose the body had been part of the hover sweep.

Poor kid. In three years, he'd gone from a life of luxury to… this rotten dump.

The remaining two crime scene techs were busy taking swabs and measurements while I started to look around. My first impression was that Jordan Hill had been a hoarder. Fast food containers, pop cans and pizza boxes were unceremoniously piled everywhere while fat flies buzzed past our head.

The only thing he'd been hoarding was his trash.

Even Harvey Bullock wasn't impressed by the room's state.

"Geez… What a dump!"

I couldn't help but level a sideways glance at Harvey after his little outburst. He caught my snide look and simply hunched his shoulders - giving me the impression that he was being falsely accused.

"What?... I clean all the time. This place is a pig sty!"

"There's something else too, Detective… No books, no television, no computer."

"Yeah… just all this hi-tech video game junk."

"That's the L.I.G.H.T system… It's pretty expensive actually. My friend Natalia Knight is the Chief Optics Engineer over at Light Industries. Even a basic game systems runs around ten grand… and this is much, _much_ more than just the basic system. I'm guessing there has to be at least fifty grand worth of components here."

Detective Bullock scratched the back of his head for a moment and gave a low whistle.

"Fifty grand, huh?... Then why was Hill living in a dump like this?"

"Not sure. I doubt he was a drug user either. He would have pawned that system a long time ago if he was. We'll pull his financials when we get back… Did you notice most of the boxes in his bedroom haven't been unpacked? The Landlord said he'd been living here for the last six months, right?"

"Yeah… Light Industries… That's run by Arthur Light, right?"

"Yes, although no one's seen the reclusive Doctor Light for the past six years. He's a bit of an isolated genius I hear."

An angry scowl suddenly crossed Harvey's face.

"Yeah, he's _something_ alright… We had Light up on child endangerment charges about seven years ago… He had been subjecting these teenage girls to a whole swack of weird experiments with lasers that affected their memories...

Poor kids forgot entire chunks of their childhood. Even with the consent forms, I still figured we had an open-and-shut case… until that creep settled with their parents out of court. Light even had the results of his court-ordered psychiatric assessment destroyed."

Harvey's information hit me hard as my good friend Natalia was employed by Arthur Light. I felt responsible to make her aware of what her employer had done, even if there had been no criminal record incurred. I made a resolution to get a hold of her later tonight when she would be awake.

"I had no idea about that, Detective… I'll inform Natalia about it as well, as I'm sure she'd like to know. Actually, she's never even met her employer in person..."

Harvey Bullock rubbed his knuckles in anticipation.

"Still, I'd just _love_ to pay that little creep a visit again."

"Let's not jump to conclusions, Detective… This death looks like natural causes. We'll consult with the forensic pathologist once the autopsy is done... There's not much evidence to support a suicide either."

"Nice try, but you're not off the hook yet, Elliot. Maybe this kid was just able to keep his overdose down."

"Maybe…"

My eyes continued to be drawn to the elaborate gaming components that surrounded us. As messy as his tenement was, the L.I.G.H.T system was kept in immaculate condition and free of clutter. His single valued possession…

"If you don't mind Detective, I'm going to record the details of this L.I.G.H.T. system. I'd like to do a little research on it later."

"Sure… I'll have a look at his personal effects, see what I can dig up… And then we're gonna go shake down the neighbours to see if they know anything. I need to work out a little frustration."

I recorded all the specs I could find from the hardware and then helped Harvey dig through Jordan Hill's personal effects. We didn't find anything incriminating… or even remotely interesting for that matter. Besides an expensive gaming system, the kid lived like an idle hermit.

After two hours of knocking on doors, we didn't learn anything new - except for the fact that the Gotham Arms was a place I would never, _ever_ live in. Jordan Hill kept to himself.

The residents we visited seemed to know and were terrified of Harvey Bullock though - he had even arrested a couple of them years ago. Harvey almost seemed to relish in their fear.

On our way back to the car, Bullock attempted to justify the reactions of those people by explaining his personal theory of law enforcement…

"All of these poor bastards live in fear, Elliot… It's just how they live their lives. And I've got to be the bad thing that they're _most_ afraid of… Otherwise, all those other fears they carry around will eventually bubble up and put them over the edge, making them do something _really_ bad."

Something about Bullock's corny justification triggered a memory from my University days. I had to look up the exact quote on my tablet, but through the gift of technology, I was able to recite it to Bullock before we got back into the car…

" _Fear is the foundation of most governments; but it is so sordid and brutal a passion, and renders men in whose breasts it predominates so stupid and miserable, that Americans will not be likely to approve of any political institution which is founded on it…_

That was by John Adams, Detective Bullock, from 1776. If we govern strictly by fear, we become no better than the thugs and criminals we protect this city from."

Harvey Bullock stopped and leaned against the Buick - staring at me as though I had just made a bad joke. He then simply grinned and jerked his thumb backwards, pointing in the direction of the Gotham Arms behind him.

"What? You think any of those reprobates actually _vote_...?"

* * *

On the car ride back to the station, once again saturated in the stench of stale beer, I had an epiphany... Commissioner Gordon hadn't paired me with Harvey Bullock because he wanted me to quit. No, the wise old Gordon had paired me with the out-dated Detective Bullock because he wanted to show me what the Gotham Shield Committee was up against.

The GCPD was a unionized environment. The Commissioner needed the majority of his members solidly onboard before the introduction of a game changer like the Police Management System. Of course, there would be a lot of apprehension and mistrust from senior members like the stubborn Detective Bullock…

My attention snapped back to the present as Harvey Bullock took a detour that pointed us away from the Precinct. I shot him a suspicious glare while I asked…

"…Where are we going?"

"Take it easy, rookie… I'm just going to grab a change of clothes from my condo. It's ten minutes away. I figured I've subjected you to this stink long enough… And there's this restaurant by my place that makes the best cannelloni in town. Not as fancy as the places that you're used to Elliot, but you should learn how the other half lives."

"Shouldn't we file our report first?"

"You can call the Commissioner while I'm grabbing some new clothes. And then we do lunch. I'm flippin' starving!"

Now was as good a time as any I figured.

"Detective… Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Are you a dirty cop?"

That caught him off-guard.

"Geez Elliot, what is this? The inquisition… I'm a dirty cop when I need to be."

"That's a vague response, Detective… But it sounds like you are."

"I've been a cop for twenty-seven years, Officer Elliot. Sometimes we need to get our hands dirty, whether we want to or not. That doesn't mean we're bad cops… But sometimes the choices we make get a little… messy. Any other stupid questions?"

"…Why exactly do you smell like you went for a swim in a beer vat?"

Harvey Bullock laughed out loud until I thought he would cry. The silent tension that my last question had invoked now all but disappeared.

"Because the lousy wooden beer kegs I dove behind for cover last night weren't as bullet-proof as I hoped... See, I'd been working with some guys from the ATF on a case involving an illegal beer smuggling operation right here in Gotham. Seems someone wasn't too keen about paying their liquor taxes.

And wouldn't you know it...

We tracked the a storage facility to the basement of one of Carmine Falcone's fine dining establishments. Everything was going like clockwork until a couple of his goons showed up and started peppering us with Tommy guns. I dove behind the first thing I could find, a row of wooden beer kegs.

Those goofs made Swiss cheese out of the place and got me soaked me in the process. But those kegs did the job of covering my butt until I was able to get the drop on them. By the time we had those two morons in cuffs, there was six inches of smuggled beer swishing around on the floor.

Then there was that slim chance that we'd be able to tie Carmine Falcone to this operation, that one of those goons would turn over, so I spent the rest of the night interrogating those two clowns and then filling out the paperwork.

Those two jerks will be going away for a long time, but they wouldn't squeal on the Roman…

And that, Officer Elliot, is why I smell like I went for a swim in a beer vat."

When Detective Bullock had initially told me that he had gotten into a bar fight, I had incorrectly assumed it had been off duty. I certainly couldn't begrudge him the chance to get a fresh outfit now.

"I apologize, Detective… I assumed the odour of sour malt and stale hops had been from… personal activities."

"Oh, it _was_ personal… I hate Carmine 'the Roman' Falcone and he hates me. What's more personal that that?... "

Suddenly he didn't smell so bad.

"Hey rookie, we're here. Give me ten minutes and then I'll take you out to lunch… being your first case and all."

As Bullock winked at me, I was shocked when I glanced past his big head at the condominium complex that we had pulled into. Robbinsville was a nicer area of Gotham, home to some of the city's most successful businessmen. And these particular condos even had an ocean view! I knew they were easily million dollar units.

"Harvey… You mean, you actually live here?!"

"Got in early, doll. Had an old buddy that owed me a favour… and he hooked me up. The condo fees are too damned high, but at least its bought and paid for."

Bought and paid for?!

Harvey actually owned one of these units outright?! He could have easily sold this place and retired, living comfortably off the proceeds and his police pension. Did he like being a cop _that_ much? Or was it something else…

"Stay put. I'll be back in ten minutes. And then you're going to taste the best damned cannelloni in the city."

As I watched Harvey Bullock casually stroll into a condominium complex that I'd never be able to afford, I dialled Lieutenant Cassia Allen on my radio to file a report. It felt good to hear her familiar – if grumpy - voice again.

" _Officer Elliot… Sorry to hear you got partnered with Harvey Bullock. Don't let that lard-butt push you around._ "

"No ma'am, I won't. I would like to report our findings to the Commissioner…"

" _Speak of the devil… Gordon just barged in._ "

I heard Commissioner Gordon's booming voice in the background of my radio, demanding to talk with me, when he must have snatched Lieutenant Allen's radio from her and started yelling orders over the radio.

" _Officer Elliot? Put Bullock on right away!_ "

"… I'm sorry, Commissioner… Detective Bullock just stepped out. We stopped at his place to get a change of clothes less than a minute ago."

" _Dammit! Elliot, you can not let Bullock enter his condo! I don't care if you have to tackle him and drag his ass back here… just stop him!_ "

"Yes, sir!"

Shoving the radio back into my belt, I was out of the car in a flash, sprinting across the full hundred yards of parking lot asphalt. It must have already been ninety degrees outside. I drew a number of stares as I screamed at the doorman to open the door for me, a fully uniformed female officer in hot pursuit of no one in particular.

Bursting into the lobby without missing a step, I spotted him at the elevators, only twenty yards away, just as he was stepping into the awaiting car.

"Bullock! Stop!"

The momentum of my mad dash carried me into a striding jog as I drew closer him, starting to feel my legs under me. He stopped and held out his arm, catching me as the weight of my vest made stopping more difficult than I would have liked.

He just looked at me with that goofy grin, as I bent over gasping to catch my breath.

"Geez… If you wanted to come up _that_ badly Elliot, you could have just asked."

I shoved my radio into his jovial face as it crackled to life.

" _Bullock?... This is Commissioner Gordon_."

The smile dropped from Harvey's lips.

"Yeah…What's up, Jim?"

" _Get back to the Precinct… now! Eduardo Flamingo broke out of Arkham two hours ago._ "

As my own cheeks flushed with exertion, I watched the colour drain from Harvey's.

For a moment, Harvey Bullock was deadly still, like a man who had just seen a ghost. Finally, his dark eyes became fixed with a fatal resolve as he dug his large hand firmly on my shoulder, dragging me towards the exit.

"C'mon kid… we gotta go… _now_."


	6. Flamingo at Large

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey Bullock's past has come back to haunt him and Officer Jane Elliot is now caught in the middle...  
> A deadly past named Eduardo Flamingo.

**Chapter Six:  
Flamingo at Large**

As Harvey Bullock floored the accelerator of the big Buick into reverse, violently spinning its tires, he reached over and flicked the sirens on - as if by some unconscious reflex.

If I had been worried before, I was beginning to _really_ worry now. My apprehension since Gordon had informed Bullock of Eduardo Flamingo's escape had increased to the point where I knew something was definitely wrong. Especially since the normally chatty Harvey had stopped talking altogether.

"Harvey, slow down… Who is this Eduardo Flamingo?!"

Bullock just stared grimly ahead, quietly gripping the steering wheel, never taking his focused eyes off the road. Finally, he drew a deep breath and answered.

"He's a pink-haired psychopath that was hired to kill me."

"You mean… like a hit man?"

The fact that people wanted to kill Harvey Bullock shouldn't have surprised me. The fact that someone had actually taken out a contract to accomplish such a thing did. I'd heard rumours that James Gordon had once been a marked man, but now it seemed as though Detective Bullock was as well.

"Yeah… like a hit man. Except this hit man is a certifiable nut job from Spain. Actually, he's like a cross between some crazy Matador and everything that was wrong with the Eighties… Are you old enough to remember 'Zorro', Officer Elliot?"

"Sure... Kind of like Batman, except with a sword and shorter cape."

"Close enough… Now picture Zorro in pink… with pink hair and with earrings… Now pretend he's an evil, deranged, homicidal maniac… Who likes guns, whips and swords….That's Eduardo Flamingo."

"That's… a rather disturbing image."

The catchphrase of 'Zorro, the Gay Blade' took on a whole new meaning for me. Still, from Harvey's chilling reaction, I gathered that Eduardo Flamingo was no laughing matter.

I nervously looked in the rear view mirror. I caught Harvey doing the same.

"Son of a bitch was supposed to be extradited back to Spain tomorrow. Of all the lousy luck."

Over the course of the morning, I had gotten the distinct impression that while everything (and everyone) irritated Harvey, very few things actually frightened the battle-hardened veteran of the Gotham City Police Department. That he was the toughest cop on the entire force.

Eduardo Flamingo frightened Harvey Bullock.

But why did the normally brash Harvey - who hadn't even bothered to tell me about a shootout with two goons last night until I asked - be so afraid? They had already put Flamingo away once. Bullock was a man who had willingly faced some of Gotham's most bizarre criminals and came out swinging.

Was there something he wasn't telling me?

"Harvey… Gordon thinks this Flamingo guy will be coming after you… Do you think the Commissioner's right? Is the contract out on you so large that an escaped convict would risk it so soon?"

"It's not the money, Elliot… Flamingo's the kind of guy who won't let something like a bullet between his beady little eyes go... He's the kind of egotistical jerk who takes those things personally."

"Wait… You _shot_ him?!"

"Had to… It was him or me... Like I said, sometimes police work gets messy… Still got the scar on my rib where he stuck me with that damned sword of his."

I watched as painful memories clouded behind Harvey's stormy eyes. As strong as the big man pretended to be, as a trained psychologist, I could easily sense his internal turmoil. The battle was getting to him. Harvey took a deep breath and continued.

"So yeah, I shot the psychopath between the eyes in self-defence... And then Gordon stopped me from doing what _should_ have been done."

"What was that, Detective?"

"Putting a second bullet between Flamingo's beady little eyes."

I could have simply written Harvey off as a bad cop then and there. That his years on the force had broken him down and made him a jaded killer. But for all his bravado, I was beginning to see something else, the real man under the hard exterior.

"…Have you ever talked about this to anyone, Harvey?"

"What, you mean like a shrink?"

"Yes."

"Just you, Elliot."

"If you want to talk about it with me, I'll listen… OK?"

It may not have been the appropriate time to say it, but I wanted to know more about Harvey Bullock… And about what had happened with Eduardo Flamingo that made him behave this way. We had two minutes before we got back to the Precinct.

"Look, Elliot… Maybe someday we'll sit down over a drink and laugh about old times, but not right now. Yeah, Flamingo is a world-class killer, but I'm not all flustered like this because I'm worried about _me_ … I'm worried about _you_. I'm trying to get you back to the Precinct so I can stop this maniac again."

A small, forgotten part of me was actually appreciative for his masculine concern.

The cop part of me just wanted to punch him in the face.

* * *

I was surprised to see Commissioner Gordon waiting for us in the Precinct's underground car park. He was flanked by two watchful officers armed with assault rifles. Jim Gordon didn't look at all happy as we stepped out of the Buick, immediately stepping forward to accost Detective Bullock.

"Dammit Bullock! Where the Hell is your radio?! I was calling you for a full five minutes before I was able to get a hold of Officer Elliot."

Harvey Bullock loosened his collar and turned a little red as he gathered his response.

"Sorry Commish… I guess it must have got shorted out when I was doing the back stroke in all that beer last night."

"And you didn't think to check it at the beginning of your shift?"

"Sure I did… But my shift started about twenty-eight hours ago."

Commissioner Gordon gave Harvey Bullock a long, serious stare, making me nervous of what he would do next. I had the feeling Harvey Bullock wasn't in Gordon's good books right now.

"Detective Bullock… You're to go inside, take a shower, and then we'll try to find a Uniform that may actually fit you. After that, you're going to coop up in the First Aid room by the holding cells and get some sleep… Then we'll talk about your conduct later. That's an order, Detective."

Harvey Bullock inhaled sharply - as though he were about to answer with a snappy retort - and then he let it go. I watched him trudge off like a beaten fighter whose corner had just tossed in the towel, accompanied by one of the officers. Bullock was a man who liked to be in the middle of the action, and this was like being grounded by his parents.

James Gordon removed a pipe from his breast pocket, filled it with loose tobacco and then carefully lit it. It looked so natural for him to be smoking a pipe, however unhealthy I felt it may have been.

"As for you, Officer Elliot… I apologize. I may have inadvertently put you in more danger than was necessary this morning."

"I'm well aware that's part of the job, Sir. With your permission, I would like to continue with the Jordan Hill case while Detective Bullock is… preoccupied."

"So long as you stick within the Precinct, you can stay on the case. It's safest if Bullock stays here until Flamingo is apprehended, Officer. He won't like it, but it's for his own good... Did Harvey mention that he put Eduardo Flamingo in a coma for six months?... Shot him between the eyes."

"He mentioned that he shot Eduardo Flamingo in self-defence, Sir."

"Yes, it was life-or-death for the both of us. Bullock was able to pull his gun before I could. Fired the shot as Flamingo's sword struck against one of his ribs. Some days I wonder if I were right to have prevented Bullock from taking the second shot when he got back to his feet…"

James Gordon took a long puff from his bent apple pipe, his eyes on some far off memory. Despite his reservations, he had made the correct decision. Good cops didn't kill in cold blood.

James Gordon just glanced over at me, still puffing away on his pipe.

"Let me tell you how Eduardo Flamingo escaped Arkham this morning, Officer Elliot…

After he came out of his bullet-induced coma, Flamingo was moved to the Asylum and spent months in solitary. Alone in the darkness, he would rub a piece of concrete back-and-forth, across each one of teeth, day after day after day.

None of the guards heard so much as a peep out of him, even though he must have exposed and severely damaged the nerve endings in his teeth. I couldn't even begin to describe that sort of pain. Eventually, he filed his teeth to sharp points, like a mouth full of canines.

After two years of ridiculous paperwork, Eduardo Flamingo was finally scheduled to be extradited back to Spain tomorrow. As the armed guard was taking him into the room with his lawyer to explain the extradition process, Eduardo Flamingo used those new sharp teeth to rip out his guard's neck.

Flamingo then calmly unlocked his cuffs, took the guard's weapon and then used the lawyer as a hostage to escape. They found the lawyer's body less than a mile away from Arkham. And now they tell me they've found _another_ dead man, still bleeding from the bullet holes through each of his eyes, naked as a jaybird, only two miles away from the lawyer's body.

So yes, Officer Elliot… It would have been a homicide had I allowed Harvey the second shot. It would weigh heavily on my conscience. But three men would have still been alive if I had turned a blind eye that day."

As disturbing as that described chain of events was, it was strangely comforting to realize that even the Commissioner had doubts of ethics. It made him all the more human. And as much as I liked to complicate police affairs, sometimes it _did_ come down to one black and white choice.

"That's the line we can never cross, Commissioner. We are not executioners."

Commissioner Gordon took one final puff of his pipe, tapped out the ashes, and then placed it back in his breast pocket. He put a comforting hand on my shoulder and smiled like my father had never smiled at me.

"I know we're not, Officer Elliot. It's the hardest part of being a cop sometimes... Walk with me, I want to know what happened with Bullock and how the Jordan Hill investigation went."

As we walked into the Precinct, I outlined the course of the morning's events at the Gotham Arms, the little information we had found, and my own quick opinion.

"The young man seemed to have died of natural causes, Commissioner. I'd like to touch base with the forensic pathologists after they've completed their examination… with your permission, Sir."

"Fine… Just stick around here for now. No more walking a beat until Eduardo Flamingo is caught, Officer Elliot. There's a remote possibility that he may have seen you with Detective Bullock… and that could make you a target. I don't doubt your competency Officer, but this man is exceedingly dangerous."

"I understand, Sir. I'll stick with the Hill investigation and let my Commanding Officer know…"

Jim Gordon's radio crackled to life with the frantic voice of an unknown officer. Since I was so close, I couldn't help but overhear their conversation as Gordon retrieved his radio.

" _Commissioner! That naked body we found just outside of Arkham… it was identified as Oleck Kanigher, a courier driver. According to his supervisor, Kanigher left work with his delivery van at seven AM this morning. Arkham is part of his route…_ "

"Do we have a license plate number on that van, Detective Moench?"

" _Yes, sir_."

"Good. I need an APB on that van with a description of Flamingo sent out immediately!"

" _On it, Sir!"_

A sudden flash of memory made my stomach churn, squeezing bile up into my throat. James Gordon looked back at me with concern in his brown eyes as I stopped mid-step. In my mad dash to prevent Detective Bullock from getting into the condo's elevator, I had sprinted past a courier van parked in the loading zone of his building.

It could have just been a coincidence, but…

"Commissioner, there was a courier van parked in the loading zone of Detective Bullock's condo building. I ran straight past it. The van was still there when we left, I'm sure of it."

Gordon lifted his radio back out of its holster, shooting me a quick look.

"Did you happen to catch the plate number, Officer?"

"No, Sir… But it had a black bird as its logo."

The Commissioner snapped his radio back on as tension slowly crept into his shoulders.

"Moench… This is Gordon again. Come in… What was the name of that courier company?"

Five seconds of radio static was the only sound in the entire hallway as we waited with bated breath for an answer. I kept reminding myself that it could have just been a coincidence, that there were thousands of courier vans in Gotham…

"… _Black Canary Courier, Sir._ "

The horrific realization of what had just happened and how close Harvey had been to death made me gasp while Jim Gordon started barking orders back into his radio.

"I want all available units at the Fox Condominium building in Robbinsville, now! Be on the lookout for a Black Canary Courier van matching the APB description, parked in the loading zone. Approach with _extreme_ caution! If its a match, I want the SWAT team called in immediately!"

" _Yes, Sir!_ "

Jim Gordon holstered his radio and tapped me twice excitedly on my Kevlar vest with grin.

"Good work, Officer Elliot. You may have just given us the break we needed."


	7. Some Light Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Officer Jane Elliot makes some startling discoveries.   
> And why does everyone assume that a thirty-seven year old female cop who's single must also be a lesbian?

As much as I tried, it was almost impossible to prevent myself from speculating on what may have been happening at Harvey’s condo…

I tried to remain calm and reasonable. After all, I didn’t even know if it was the stolen courier van that I had spotted earlier... It could have been pure coincidence, there were dozens of Black Canary courier vans on the streets of Gotham… Which meant that I had just sent my fellow officers on a wild goose chase...

But then again, what if it _was_ the stolen van? What if the fanged killer named Eduardo Flamingo was now desperately holed up in Harvey’s apartment while snipers attempted to draw a bead on him?... Or what if he had fled from the scene in that van just before the police arrived, and now a dozen squad cars sped after him in hot pursuit?

Just like what had happened to my father…

I resigned myself to the fact that it was going to be a long, anxiety-filled afternoon.

To keep myself occupied, I went back to the Jordan Hill case, attempting to provide Commissioner Gordon with some answers by tomorrow - since my new partner was now soundly asleep in the First Aid room. I rolled my eyes when I overheard a few officers complaining about the loud snoring near the holding cells.

Apparently, Harvey Bullock could sleep anywhere, even if he were the target of an escaped, psychotic international assassin.

My trip to the Coroner’s Office bore unripe fruit. The assigned forensic pathologist told me that she had prioritized the case, but wouldn’t have any conclusive results until later tonight. Gordon had already called.

That left researching the L.I.G.H.T system components I had previously catalogued from my time at Jordan Hill’s apartment. Going online, I soon discovered that the total cost of the young man’s elaborate gaming system had been closer to _twice_ as much as my initial estimate of fifty grand.

Although you could easily buy a brand new entry-level system for ten grand, Jordan’s L.I.G.H.T system had premium hardware options and _all_ the bells and whistles. It was an audio-visual masterpiece, as high-end as you could possibly get. He had spared no expense.

I noticed there were hundreds of software purchases available for it as well.

I suspected that Jordan Hill had them all.

No, Jordan Hill hadn’t been addicted to drugs, he’d been addicted to a game.

His medical history was easy enough to dig up. There was no mention of anything like epilepsy or diabetes to coincide with his sudden departure though. Suicide was still a possibility, but I’d need the pending toxicology reports first before I was ready to go down that path.

Time to look at the financials.

A trip to the Commercial Crimes Unit got me in touch with a forensic accountant I knew from the Gotham Shield Committee. She was an attractive young lady named Cerise who had joined the Committee only last month. I had met her briefly at our last fund raiser, a gala affair in the Diamond District.

From her eye-raising fashion choices and four-inch heels, I would have to guess that Cerise was single and actively seeking to change her online status to “in a relationship”. I’m positive she must have been very popular with the male officers, but I honestly had no idea how she even typed with those fake nails.

“Oh, Miss Elliot! I barely recognized you in Uniform!... Sorry, I guess I should call you Officer Elliot now.”

Cerise beamed a wide smile at me, getting up from her chair to give me a quick hug. How did she even stand in those high heels?

“Please, call me Jane. I was wondering if you had a moment to help me on a case, Cerise.”

“Sure. Which case is it, Jane?”

“I’d like to view some financials on the Mayor’s late son, Jordan Hill. I was partnered with Harvey Bullock this morning for my psychological expertise.”

“Oh, dear God… What did you do to deserve _that_?! That man is an absolute slob. Let me see what I can find, Jane. Shouldn’t be too difficult… give me a minute.”

I watched as fake red fingernails flashed across her keyboard like a crimson tempest. As she typed away, Cerise snuck in an unrelated question which caught me off guard.

“Jane… I’d been meaning to ask you… How well do you know Anton Knight?”

“Anton?... Well enough I suppose. I’m actually much closer with his sister, Natalia.”

A sudden look of revelation dawned upon Cerise’s face, as though a mental light bulb had been suddenly switched on inside her pretty little head. She gave me a guilty smile, almost giggling…

“Well _good_ for you, Jane… She’s a little pale but positively gorgeous! I’m so happy for the both of you…”

It actually took me a second to figure out where Cerise was going with this.

“Cerise… I’m _not_ a lesbian. And neither is Natalia.”

“Oh My God Jane, I’m so sorry, I just assumed…”

“It’s alright, Cerise... I’ve been so busy with my life and career that I never had time to go on dates. My friend Natalia is so pale because she has a genetic condition called Solar Urticaria… She’s allergic to sunlight.”

Cerise probably wasn’t the only one in the Precinct who thought that an unmarried, thirty-seven year old female cop with no boyfriend _must_ have been a closet lesbian.

And as far as not having time to go on dates, that was a bit of a lie. I deliberately chose _not_ to go on dates. After what had happened last time, I swore I’d never enter into a relationship again. And that promise had stood for the past ten years.

Cerise couldn’t be content to let sleeping dogs lie however.

“You’ve never… _y’know_ … hooked up with Anton then?”

My own mental light bulb suddenly went off as I realized that Cerise was keenly interested in Anton Knight - which shouldn’t have been _that_ surprising actually. After all, Anton had been voted as Gotham’s second most eligible bachelor behind Bruce Wayne.

“Anton’s a charming man to be sure… but no, there’s never been anything between us. If you’d like Cerise, I can introduce you to him at the next meeting.”

She looked relieved instead of excited.

“Oh it’s OK, Jane. We’ve actually already been introduced… Here we go, I’ve got the details on Jordan Hill for you. I’ll send the file to Detective Bullock too.”

“Better make that a printout, I’m not sure Bullock even knows how to turn a computer on.”

Cerise just gazed at me oddly.

“Sure he does. I’ve sent him financial files before.”

I was honestly not prepared for that last statement... I had a hard time envisioning Harvey Bullock in front of a computer - unless of course someone had placed a dozen donuts on top of it. So Detective Bullock _could_ operate a computer. The guy continued to astonish me.

“I guess I’m the one making assumptions now, Cerise. So, anything interesting with the financials?”

“Whoa… This _is_ interesting… Holy Cow, Jane! Your boy had a million dollar trust fund!”

“How can that be? Jordan was living in a slum when we found him this morning.”

“I’m just reading the fine print of the trust fund… He would be paid thirty grand a year for six years until he turned twenty-four. All of his schooling would be completely taken care of by the trust fund. Then, when he turned twenty-four, the remaining funds would be transferred to his bank account, no strings attached.”

“Sounds like he had something to live for…Who’s the executor?”

“Hill’s old law firm... Jordan only attended one semester of Gotham University though… This is interesting as well… Jordan took out a high-interest, hundred thousand dollar loan against his trust fund when he turned eighteen… Dumb kid.”

“High interest?… Loan shark?”

“Gotham First Bank. It’s all legit, Jane... But what the heck did that kid spend a hundred and ninety grand on? He’s had three payouts and that big loan, but his bank account flat-lined four weeks ago.”

“I suspect he spent all that money on his L.I.G.H.T system…”

As I mentioned ‘L.I.G.H.T system’ Cerise’s eyes lit up and she gave me a sly smile, as though she were about to share some naughty bit of gossip. Her voice grew quiet as she motioned me closer, until we were huddled shoulder-to-shoulder, whispering.

“Oh… into that virtual porn stuff, was he?”

Pornography?! We hadn’t found _any_ pornography at Jordan’s apartment.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Cerise. I thought it was a gaming system.”

“Oh, that’s just what they tell you, Jane. But you can buy these third-party… ‘attachments’. They plug right into the system when you’re feeling naughty. Apparently you can recreate sex with anyone… or anything… Pretty _freaky_ stuff… so I hear.”

I actually felt the heat from Cerise’s cheeks as they slowly turned a bright shade of pink. I had a sneaking suspicion that if I visited her bedroom right now, I’d find a L.I.G.H.T. system and some of those third-party ‘attachments’ of the male variety.

Not that there was anything wrong with that of course.

“We didn’t find anything third-party components at all, Cerise… adult or otherwise.”

“Really? Well… I hear they tend to short out anyways.”

I had to suppress a grin as a frown creased her glossy red lips. Poor girl, left in the lurch like that...

Still, there was no evidence to indicate that Jordan Hill was using his L.I.G.H.T. system as a masturbation aid. Which was strange actually, considering he was a twenty-year-old man who lived alone and had every other upgrade. He actually _should_ have owned those ‘attachments’… but Harvey and I had been through everything in that stinking apartment.

“Thanks for the help, Cerise. Maybe I’ll see you at the next Committee meeting?”

“Oh don’t worry… I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

Back at Harvey’s desk, I logged onto his computer - which I still couldn’t believe he actually used. He probably had help.

As a former psychologist, I knew video game addictions were well documented. And with something as reality-altering as the L.I.G.H.T system, addictive psychoses and delusional behaviour _must_ have been prevalent among its users. There was bound to be others like Jordan Hill.

What I found shocked me.

Not only were there tens of thousands of young men and women clinically addicted to the L.I.G.H.T. system, that number was rapidly escalating. There had been various ‘interventions’ by parents and professionals to get these young people game-free. Specialized treatment was a booming industry…

Most of the Light Industry games seemed to be of the quest-adventure type, with a surprising number of ‘Rescue the Princess’ scenarios. I imagined that the rescued Princess would be _thoroughly_ appreciative afterwards, but it was still strange that Light Industries had no First Person Shooters or games specializing in gratuitous violence that were so popular with America’s youth…

I also found the ‘naughty’ add-ons that Cerise had mentioned, predominantly prosthetics of genitalia, although it was clearly stated that these were not _officially_ intended for use with the L.I.G.H.T. system (even though that’s exactly what they were intended for). They seemed more black market than legitimate, imported from offshore.

In a way, I admired Arthur Light’s resistance to enter the adult marketplace, even if it only meant that another company less scrupulous would eventually fill that niche.

Further research produced even two more disturbing incidents…

I stumbled across two cases where young men, aged 18 and 19, had been found dead in front of their systems, just like Jordan Hill had been found this morning. Was the game somehow killing its users?!

Bullock’s earlier admission that Arthur Light had been experimenting with memory-altering lasers rolled around in the back of my mind like an unstoppable avalanche… Sure, it _sounded_ crazy, but what if the mysterious Doctor Light was now using his L.I.G.H.T. gaming system to further his insane research?

It had been girls the first time, but maybe now he was broadening his research to include everyone… and had found the ideal method of wiping unsuspecting minds. Was I grasping at straws or was there actually something deadly happening right beneath our well-lit noses here?

Tapping into the autopsy reports, the cause of death for the previous two dead players had been listed as ‘Exhaustion’… A reason generally used by pathologists when they felt the death was natural, but were unable to pinpoint the exact cause.

I wondered if Jordan Hill’s death would be labelled as ‘Exhaustion’.

Considering the number of people who owned one of these systems, a few deaths here and there wouldn’t have aroused suspicion… People died from unknown causes every day. These two reports could have just been the tip of the iceberg.

I decided to do a little background history on our reclusive Doctor Light.

I found an article from thirty years ago, when Arthur Light had been heralded as the next Einstein. His theories in physics, specifically in the field of optics had been ground-breaking and revolutionary. There was absolutely no doubt he was a bona fide genius.

After a successful tenure at Gotham University, Light had taken a position with S.T.A.R. Labs to run their optics division. He then married and had three daughters. It was also during this time that he published his last and most controversial paper, stating that all matter, even human beings, could be reconstituted into photons…

He was theorizing that teleportation by light was possible. That with proper transference, the exchange of matter and energy were easily interchangeable with no loss of fidelity. It was like something out of science fiction, changing people into light beams and then back again.

His closing words both haunted and fascinated me.

‘ _Just imagine it, entire biospheres transcribed into photons and beamed across the heavens, becoming as they were when they have reached their destination! We shall become as our stars above. A dying man preserved as pure light until a cure is discovered. A healthy man preserved and duplicated in light as a backup copy of himself. We are about to enter a new age of science…_

_The Age of Light!_ ”

Soon after its publication, Dr. Arthur Light had left S.T.A.R. Labs to strike out on his own, forming Light Industries. Perhaps his ideas had been a little _too_ forward for S.T.A.R. Labs or perhaps he intended to take us into the Light Age by himself.

Whatever his reason had been, the Light Age had been placed on hold.

Tragedy struck his household six years ago when his eldest daughter Ava had passed away from something called Dercum’s disease, at only the young age of eighteen. Her passing seemed to unravel the Light family after that.

His wife had separated from him, gaining custody of his remaining two daughters. The grieving Arthur Light had then simply disappeared from the public eye, preferring to run his company alone in utter seclusion.

His last known photo had been taken at his daughter’s funeral. It showed a black-haired man with a well-groomed chin strip; the bottom-half of a goatee grown solely on his chin. He seemed thin, tall, and somehow isolated by those around him. A man lost in this world of cruel mortality whose mind contemplated the nature of stars.

But this was also the man who had transformed Light Industries from a simple optics lab into a multimillion dollar gaming company; the first to use an interactive holographic simulation coupled with adaptive artificial intelligence.

The simple fact that no other company had yet successfully replicated the L.I.G.H.T. system - even after five years - was a testament to his profound genius. There were even plans to introduce a lower-cost model this Fall, which would bring his system to the masses and take his company to Fortune 500 status.

But a part of me wondered… was it Arthur Light himself who was playing a game with the lives of others?

I was so engrossed with my research that I barely noticed Lieutenant Cassia Allen behind me as she hobbled on well-worn crutches.

“Some light reading, Officer Elliot?… Commissioner Gordon wants to see you now.”

* * *

 

** Author’s Note: **

This was one of those chapters where a lot of background information gets filled in. Not always exciting but necessary for the plot and the big reveal.


	8. Death Waited for Harvey Bullock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detective Harvey Bullock learns that he narrowly avoided a fatal encounter with Eduardo Flamingo and Jane Elliot goes on a sleep over.

Glancing at the time, I was surprised to see that it was closer to 6:00PM as I took my leave from Lieutenant Allen. My research had taken longer than I thought… My mind snapped back to the Eduardo Flamingo situation. Had there been a development?! Had he been arrested?!

As I opened Gordon’s office door with a dozen burning questions on the tip of my tongue, I couldn’t stop myself before I suddenly burst out laughing.

Sitting there like an oversized schoolboy was a bleary-eyed Detective Bullock, squeezed into a police uniform _several_ sizes too small for him. The bottom five buttons of the short-sleeve shirt remained undone, woefully inadequate to encompass his substantial girth. The pants were likewise unbuttoned and dangerously stretched to maximum capacity. It would have been a disaster if he had bent over.

Harvey Bullock looked up at me like a sad bulldog in a straight jacket.

“Yeah, yeah… Laugh it up, Elliot.”

I was about to make a comment when I noticed Bullock’s arms and stopped short.

In his baggy trench coat, I had assumed that Harvey’s fat had extended into those thick arms… but I had been wrong. In tight short sleeves, I realized that Harvey Bullock’s muscular biceps and forearms were _massive_ , giving me the impression that he could snap someone in two with nothing more than his bare hands.

Bullock looked more like a power-lifter who had fallen off his diet plan than the fat slob I had mistaken him for earlier.

“Now, now…” scolded Jim Gordon stepping forward and ushering me into a chair.

“I’ve already sent out for a new set of clothes for Detective Bullock. In the meantime, let’s get down to business... Officer Elliot, I’ve invited Detective Kim here to be your escort tonight. She’s well aware of the details concerning Eduardo Flamingo and the associated risks.”

I looked over to see a female Korean plainclothes Detective standing discreetly against the wall. I’d been so taken with Harvey’s ill-fitting outfit and arms that I hadn’t even noticed her diminutive form until now.

Unlike the loud and boisterous Harvey Bullock, Detective Kim was small and extremely quiet. She didn’t project much of a presence - which meant that she was probably well suited for undercover work. She gave me a quiet nod as Jim Gordon continued.

“Firstly, Eduardo Flamingo is still at large. We’ve got fifty well-armed officers out there dedicated to finding him. The City itself has been put on high alert. Which means that I don’t need you out there as well, Detective Bullock…”

Harvey growled his reply…

“C’mon Jim, get real… You think hiding me away in here is going to stop a nut like Flamingo?! He’ll blow a hole right through these walls with a bazooka if he has to. All you’re doing is putting a lot of people at risk by burying me in here like some prize chump.”

Jim Gordon wasn’t swayed.

“We’ll discuss your concerns _later_ , Detective Bullock. For now, my primary concern is the safety of my officers. I would like to brief Officer Elliot on the day’s events before she leaves. From what we’ve managed to piece together at the Fox Condominiums today, I feel reasonably secure that Eduardo Flamingo is unaware of Officer Elliot’s association with Detective Bullock.”

Jim Gordon looked directly at me to give his words extra weight.

“That’s the _only_ reason I’m allowing you to leave of your own recognisance with Detective Kim tonight, Elliot.

I’ll brief you on our findings so far – so that you’re fully aware of what kind of man Eduardo Flamingo is and what he’s capable of. Carry your weapon and a radio with you at all times until this man is apprehended. Understand?”

“Understood, Sir.”

“Good… Now, from the security surveillance and eye witness accounts, we’ve managed to establish that Eduardo Flamingo did indeed arrive dressed as a courier at the Fox Condominium Complex at 11:16AM this morning, a full twenty minutes before the two of you pulled in.”

James Gordon brought up grainy video surveillance on his monitor while we followed along, spellbound by the black and white footage of a man who had escaped Arkham that morning.

“At 11:20 AM, we show Eduardo Flamingo knocking at your door, Harvey. One of your immediate neighbours, a Mrs. Woolfolk from Unit 615, is then seen to open her door and approach Flamingo. We believe she was attempting to explain that you were not currently at home. Flamingo then seems to suggest that she could sign and hold the package for you inside her Unit.

Once inside, we know that Eduardo Flamingo snapped her neck and stuffed Mrs. Woolfolk into her own deepfreeze. From her window, there was an excellent view of the building’s entrance.

We know Flamingo was watching out this window because Harvey entered the main entrance at 11:33AM and Eduardo Flamingo immediately exited Unit 615 and walked directly to the elevators down the hall at the same time.

At 11:34AM, as the elevator car arrives, Flamingo draws his stolen handgun and aims. However, the elevator doors open to reveal no passenger, leaving Flamingo perplexed.”

Harvey grinned and jerked his thumb in my direction.

“Yeah, I had already pushed the button for the sixth floor when Officer Flash over there stopped me. Geez, that would have been a helluva way to go.”

Gordon continued.

“You were _very_ lucky today, Detective Bullock. In future, carry a working radio with you at all times. What I can say to Officer Elliot is that we’re reasonably certain that Flamingo did not have the opportunity to get a good look at you - as he was waiting in front of the elevator during your entrance to the building.

Flamingo then spent sixty seconds waiting in the hallway before he rushed back into Unit 615. He then hastily departed at 11:37AM, just minutes before the arrival of the police. We hauled the stolen courier van out of the Atlantic at 2:10PM this afternoon. It had been driven off the pier at Cape Carmine”

In my own mind, I did the math, trying to establish if there had been a chance that Flamingo had seen me… Sixty seconds, plus the time to get back into the condo. From the time the elevator had arrived on the sixth floor, I was positive that it had taken less than a minute to get back into the car. There’s no way that Flamingo could have seen me in that time frame. In fact, it was probably the squealing of the tires that had drawn him back into the condo.

Harvey on the other hand…

“One last thing…” added Commissioner Gordon with a chill in his voice.

“We’ve subpoenaed Eduardo Flamingo’s medical file and psychological profile from Arkham… and I’m afraid it’s bad news. The bullet that Detective Bullock put into Flamingo’s brain damaged his prefrontal cortex, specifically an area called the Nucleus Accumbens.

The Nucleus Accumbens is responsible for things such as pleasure, desire, and reward. In a way Detective, your bullet acted like a lobotomy, leaving Flamingo detached and void of emotion… a contract killer who is now a sociopath.

The psychology team at Arkham also mention that Eduardo Flamingo had continually obsessed on one single memory… That in an attempt to feel emotion again, he would constantly fixate on his one last, true passion…

His desire to kill Harvey Bullock.”

A chilling quiet seized the room until an angry Detective Bullock jumped to his feet.

“Dammit Jim, you’ve got to let me get out there! If he wants me that bad, let me draw him out. Let’s bring the fight to him instead of just sitting around here on our damned asses. All that we’re doing is just giving that creep more time to prepare for war!”

Jim Gordon adjusted his glasses and glanced over at Harvey.

“We’ll discuss this later, Detective Bullock... When you’re wearing clothes that I can take you serious in. For now, I believe Officer Elliot is suitably aware of the situation’s gravity and the dangers involved... Do you have any questions, Officer?”

“Commissioner, you said that Detective Kim was to be my escort?”

“Yes. Even though we’re reasonably certain that Eduardo Flamingo is unaware of your association with Harvey Bullock, I’d like you to stay at Detective Kim’s tonight… as a precaution.”

“Sir, I would like to visit with my friend Natalia Knight this evening… in regards to the Jordan Hill case. She’s the Chief Optics Engineer with Light Industries - the manufacturers of Jordan Hill’s gaming system. I’m sure that Natalia can put me up for the night if you’re that concerned.”

Commissioner Gordon wasn’t convinced.

“We’ve already handed Hill’s L.I.G.H.T. system over to the tech lab as evidence, Officer. They’ll be able to provide a full analysis of the unit tomorrow. I’m also hoping to have the pathologist’s results within the hour but the toxicology just came back as clean. You’re off the hook, it wasn’t a suicide… I’m confident that Jordan Hill’s death will be found to be natural causes… Or was this a personal visit, Elliot?”

Did _everyone_ think I was a lesbian?!

“Not exactly, Sir… Detective Bullock had mentioned that Arthur Light had been arrested years ago for some memory wiping experiments and that it had been settled out of court. I wanted to make sure Natalia knew about this as a matter of conscience, Commissioner.”

“If its something you have to do, Detective Kim will drive you there then. And I’ll need your friend’s complete contact information in case there’s any further developments. Don’t forget your weapon and radio, Officer Elliot. And don’t let your guard down for a second.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Harvey Bullock stared over at me with those dark, heavy eyes. He hadn’t gotten back into his seat.

“This friend of yours is Anton Knight’s sister, right?”

“Step-sister, yes. Natalia Knight. She’s also my childhood friend, Detective.”

“Jane… Do me a favour. Take my cell phone number.”

It was the first time that Harvey Bullock had ever called me ‘Jane’. The worried look on his face gave me pause for concern. Reluctantly, I agreed.

We shared cell phone numbers when Harvey suddenly grabbed me around the shoulders, pulling me close to him. He whispered one last, frightening bit of advice into my ear.

“Watch yourself around Anton Knight, Jane... He’s not the White Knight he makes out to be.”

Harvey let go of me, but still held my attention with those intense, black eyes. I was a little shocked and puzzled by his sudden display of personal concern until Bullock’s face suddenly twisted back into the disgruntled cop guise I knew so well.

He clapped me on the shoulder, almost knocking me over, as he spoke in that jeering, obnoxious voice again.

“This is where we part ways, kid. Give me a call when I get all this settled and we’ll have that drink you were asking about... Speaking of food Jim, when do we eat? I’m freaking starving!”

And that was that. Harvey Bullock, the warrior-Detective with an appetite for unhealthy food and mortal danger was back. Gone was that stranger who had warned me about Anton Knight.

But I knew that I had glimpsed the _real_ Harvey Bullock - if only for a moment. Not the brash, know-it-all cop who strutted around like a defiant teenager but rather the man who cared about his fellow officers. Was there something he wanted to tell me away from Jim Gordon? Was that why he had taken my number?

Harvey was playing some sort of role. But I still wasn’t sure what that role was… or why he had to play it.

* * *

 

After I had called and woke Natalia up (she slept during the day), all the arrangements for my sleepover were made. Unfortunately, Detective Kim was uncomfortable with letting me stop at my apartment to pick up some clothes, but I did manage to convince her to let me stop at a Drugstore so I could pick up a few supplies.

Harvey’s words about Anton Knight quietly haunted me.

Even though he was my best friend’s step-brother, there was something about Anton that had always seemed too good to be true. It had all come so easy for him, with that alluring smile and debonair charm, he had suddenly become one of Gotham’s favourite sons.

When he returned to Gotham, Anton had beguiled both Natalia and I with his stories of studying various law enforcement agencies across Europe and Asia, of his intense martial arts training with the masters of the Far East, of the amazing places he had been to and the interesting people he had met.

But he never mentioned how he paid for it all.

Anton had left shortly after his father had been indicted and the family bank account seized, leaving the children almost destitute. Charles Knight had never been as wealthy as my own father of course, but he had done extremely well as Gotham City’s central planner… especially when he had taken a cut of the large-scale building projects he awarded.

In Gotham, it had once been known as the price of doing business.

When Charles had been sent to prison, Natalia and Anton had been left with precious little. Yet Natalia had managed to become a self-made, educated woman, an accomplished optics engineer and co-owner of the ‘Gotham By Night’ balloon touring business that we had started together.

I had put up most of the investment shortly before my mother had passed away, still blissfully unaware of the dismal state of my father’s pension fund. ‘Gotham By Night’ was the only asset that I didn’t have the heart to sell off when I liquidated all of my other possessions, because it had meant so much to Natalia.

When I was depressed, she would take me up on one of our night-time magical balloon rides. As the pair of us floated high above Gotham, I saw a whole new side of this mad city.

As we drifted over the harbour, a thousand stars filled the sky above us while a dark ocean faded far away into the blackness, unaware of the struggle and turmoil resting just beyond its ancient shores.

For a moment, we were above it all, immersed in the velvet blanket of night. Innocent and free, a part of the sky. And although she could never know the day, Natalia felt no regret, only a sense of belonging when bathed in pale moonlight.

She was truly a creature of the night.

It was sunset when the very quiet Detective Kim finally dropped me off at my friend’s lonely home on the outskirts of Gotham. When I rang the doorbell, I was surprised to find it was Anton who answered, his tall, muscular figure filled the entire doorway.

Anton Knight… The usual smile, sultry blue eyes and easy charm…

So why did I silently grip the police radio that was in my purse?

“Jane, so nice to see you again, my dear. Please… come in. My lovely sister shall be joining us shortly.”


	9. Brother and Sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane learns of Anton Knight's true intentions and then reveals her greatest secret to Natalia Knight.

With my hand still in my purse and firmly gripping my police radio, I stepped through the front door and entered into Natalia’s house, past her awaiting step-brother, carrying the bag with a few items from the Drugstore in the crook of my elbow.

“Anton… I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“A pleasant surprise, I hope. When I heard the lovely Jane Elliot would be coming for a sleepover, nothing could keep me away. And you went shopping I see… Please allow me to carry those for you. Was there something you needed to retrieve from your purse?”

“N-No… just some lip gloss... Where’s Natalia?”

Why was I suddenly so nervous around him?

“My darling sister is in the shower and then she will spend a full hour on her make-up and hair. She does appreciate the sight of herself in a mirror… Which leaves us with some time to ourselves, Jane… Just you… and me. _Whatever_ shall we do?”

I knew exactly what Anton was insinuating as he raised his eyebrow, but I wasn’t taking the bait. Even though I was completely aware that there was a strong body under that designer shirt, abs that had been chiselled from hard granite…

“Well, cooking might be an excellent start. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Anton laughed heartily and smiled. At least he was good natured about being turned down. Actually, it probably didn’t happen very often.

“Jane, my precious little Jane… Just tell me what your heart desires and it shall be yours. But in the meantime, could I start you with some wine to ease the stress of the day? My sister has a Cabernet Sauvignon that is actually passable.”

“…Shouldn’t we ask her first?”

“Wine is easily replaced, my dear. My time with you is not. For every single taste that touches your precious lips, I shall reimburse my sister with a bottle of the same. Am I not fair?”

“It sounds like you’re trying to get me drunk, Anton.”

“Alas, unlike you Jane, my duty can only be to serve… I do not have the strength to protect you from myself.”

That one was actually clever. As tempting as wine was right now, I had to be on my guard around Anton.

“Ah…Then perhaps we should save the wine until dinner. I’m not sure what Natalia has in her pantry right now for food though.”

“The same thing she _always_ has, my dear Jane. The phone numbers of every single all-night restaurant in Gotham that will deliver. My little sister has never cooked a night in her life.”

I had to laugh.

“No… I guess she hasn’t, has she.”

“It’s good to hear you laugh again, Jane… To see that wayward smile. Since you joined the force, I’ve been worried about you… Do you still feel you made the correct decision?”

“Yes, I do… God knows, being a front-line officer isn’t easy, but it gives me the opportunity to make a positive change in the community. Speaking of, I would like to table some volunteer opportunities at the next Gotham Shield Committee meeting…”

I watched as Anton’s countenance grew dark and infuriated.

Was it something I had said about volunteering?

“Sweet, innocent Jane… You enter a den of adders and then wonder how you can brighten up the room. There is too much goodness in you... But you must watch your step, Jane… they’ve already struck at your heels.”

“…What exactly do you mean by _that_ , Anton?”

“I’m fully aware of what they’ve done to you… Do you think it was an accident that James Gordon decided to pair you with his fat Detective earlier this morning? He doesn’t trust you, Jane… Gordon believes you’re a spy for the Committee.”

A sudden chill ran down my spine. Not because of what Anton had suspected, but because of the what he had _known_.

“Anton… How did you know I was partnered with Harvey Bullock this morning? I didn’t even tell Natalia…”

A familiar female voice from the second-storey landing answered me. Looking up, I saw the slim, pale figure of my friend Natalia Knight smiling, elegantly wrapped in dark towels walking out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam in her wake.

“Because he’s sleeping with Cerise Morgan in your accounting department, Jane.”

Anton turned a bright shade of red and took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure if he were embarrassed… or upset. So _that_ was why Cerise had been inquiring about Anton this afternoon. She was already seeing him! Anton seemed defensive however.

“Now, now sister-dear… There’s no need to tread upon my good name in front of our guest…”

“ _My_ guest, Anton… and also my best friend. You’ve led poor Jane on a merry chase for a year now, only to toss her aside for some paltry tart in heels. If you’re trying to seduce her, at least be honest about it, brother-dear.”

As well as Anton could play the game, Natalia could play it better. A solitary glance from her could alter the course of a man’s destiny. I truly believed that…

Anton took my hands in his and looked at me with sad, wide eyes of the purest blue.

“My dearest Jane… If I believed I had even the slimmest chance with you, I would foreswear all other women and never regret the day. But alas, my resolve was tested and found to be wanting. And yet, one simple word from you and I will be yours alone.”

I’d had a _really_ long day and wasn’t in the mood for silly, romantic banter tonight… Which probably explained my catty reply.

“Anton… You can sleep with whoever you’d like. As a matter of fact, I’m sure Cerise could introduce you to certain attachments on her L.I.G.H.T. system and make that possible.”

I heard Natalia’s raucous laughter from her bedroom upstairs as she continued to get ready. That woman had excellent hearing, no one could ever doubt that.

Anton suddenly fixed me with a serious glare, his hand over his heart.

“Jane… you’re hurt… I understand. I have betrayed you to a woman who is a mere spark compared to your divine radiance. But you _have_ to trust me when I tell you that Harvey Bullock is not a man who can be trusted. He is the very epitome of the sort of corrupt official that the Gotham Shield Committee was designed to expose.

I’ve talked with powerful businessmen that _know_ Bullock’s a dirty cop… That he’s taken money from criminals, that he’s betrayed his department on countless occasions, and even blackmailed fellow officers. He is the scourge of law enforcement in Gotham.

I also know that Gordon is protecting him, because the fat man has been doing Gordon’s dirty work for years now. Harvey Bullock is the ‘Bad Cop’ to James Gordon’s ‘Good Cop’… A clever subterfuge that they’ve managed to fool the honest citizens of Gotham with... but no longer.

You can help me… Help me lift the lid off this den of vipers wearing badges. I need you as my inside girl, Jane. We can bring judgement against Harvey Bullock – we need only remove one infested timber and the whole rotten structure comes tumbling down upon them.

And then we can rebuild the Gotham City Police Department, Jane… Rebuild it the way the Committee wants to... I need to share a secret with you. These aren’t just pipe dreams anymore, Jane… It could all be reality for us.

There’s a Mayoral race in two years and certain powerful backers have asked me to enter. They believe in us and want change, Jane. They want Anton Knight as Mayor. You and I, we could do a lot of good together… but I need you on my side.”

Anton Knight as Mayor?!

It seemed unlikely considering who has father had been, but he may have the charm to pull it off. And if he were able to campaign on a scandal exposed within the GCPD, his leadership on the Committee would go a long way towards a political career…

“Anton… It’s wonderful that you have such political support. If I were to find _anything_ illegal regarding Harvey Bullock’s conduct, I would personally have him before Internal Affairs within the hour.”

Anton looked at me with patronizing eyes.

“Jane, you’re far too trusting and naïve, my dear... You don’t see how far the corruption has spread around you. Internal Affairs is _filled_ with Gordon’s cronies. Good and honest men have _already_ brought Harvey Bullock before Internal Affairs, with irrefutable proof of his misdeeds, only to have their claims ridiculed and dropped while their own careers were targeted… or _worse_.”

Why did the fact that Harvey was a cop living by himself in a million dollar condo unit suddenly pop into my head?

“If you really know all of this, Anton… Why don’t you involve the District Attorney?”

“I intend to, Jane… but first I need to build a case. Could you do that for me, Jane? Could you help me gather evidence against Harvey Bullock?”

Could I?... That was the question. I had told Harvey Bullock this morning that I could be a concerned citizen _and_ a cop. He had told me differently… that a cop was a cop. I had to pick one or the other.

I was a cop.

“Of course I would testify in court, Anton… but I am prohibited from discussing any police business outside of public record with you. You know I would escalate a fellow officer’s illegal conduct to the highest authority in order to make the GCPD a better place. You have to trust me on that.”

Anton was incensed.

“Oh, I _do_ trust you, Jane. I have _always_ trusted you... But you’ve made it abundantly clear that you do not trust me! For the past two years, I’ve done nothing but work night and day, tirelessly trying to make Gotham a safer place… a better place.”

“So have I.”

There was no softness in me when I replied. No gentle sympathies to preserve Anton Knight’s fragile ego. The law had its faults, but there was such a thing as Due Process… even for cops.

Anton then pleaded with me.

“I know you have, Jane… but by the time you discover the truth, it may be too late! I’m only trying to protect you.”

“A moment ago you would have served me.”

Anton Knight threw up his hands and looked at the ceiling in defeat. He knew where I stood in regards to ethics. This discussion was over and I had given him the opportunity to end it gracefully.

“You _deserve_ my sister, Jane Elliot. Both of you are far too smart and far too lovely for your own good… And why are you laughing?”

“Cerise Morgan thought your sister and I were dating.”

“Cerise Morgan is a brainless twit.”

“She’s a lovely girl, Anton... And I’m sure she’s not the only one who thinks that a single lady my age who’s a cop may also be a lesbian.”

A smile spread back across Anton’s handsome features.

“Then allow me the opportunity to set the record straight and defend your shining reputation, fairest Jane… We would be good together, you and I… You have finally found a man who deserves you… When I run for Mayor, there’s only one lady I want by my side… and it is _not_ Cerise Morgan.”

That sounded like a proposal.

“Anton…you’re serious?”

“I am, Jane… I would not trifle with your affection.”

“I’ll… need some time to consider.”

Anton took my hand and raised it to his strong mouth, gently kissing my ring finger as the gaze of his piercing blue eyes travelled along the entire length of my arm - electrifying each nerve ending as it passed - until it struck my own dazzling eyes.

“Of course, dearest Jane. In the meantime, take extreme care. I could never forgive anyone who harmed you… Until I am once more graced with your presence, I shall take my leave. Please bid my sharp-tongued sister ‘Adieu’ for me… There is business I must attend to elsewhere this evening.”

Natalia had come downstairs shortly after her brother had departed, wearing her lab coat and slacks… and still managed to look fabulous. Although she usually worked from home, she still liked to look the part.

I remembered at the Committee’s last fund raiser when she worn a skin-tight black dress which had been accompanied by nothing but a throng of male admirers.

Natalia poured us both a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon as she placed the order for food. Unlike her charming brother, Natalia was honest (perhaps _too_ honest) about how I really looked at that moment.

“Jane… You positively look like Hell. Come over here and let me brush your hair while we wait for our food. I want to hear all about your adventures today.”

Sitting on the couch with my back against Natalia and her long legs wrapped around me, she diligently worked a brush through my long, scarlet hair - which had been tied tightly in a bun all day. With Detective Kim as my ride, I hadn’t had a chance to fix my appearance earlier.

“You have such pretty hair when you look after it, Jane. Now, tell me all about this escaped killer. He sounds so absolutely gruesome.”

Eduardo Flamingo was the furthest thing from my mind right now.

“Natalia… I think your brother just informally proposed to me.”

“ _Step_ -brother... And what did you tell him, Jane? Have you fallen under his spell?”

“I told him that I would have to think it over.”

“Good for you. He’s only after your money, you know.”

“Natalia… That’s a cruel thing to say... Am I really _that_ unattractive?”

Natalia wrapped her arms around me from behind and rested her chin on my shoulder, holding me tight in a soothing embrace.

“You are as beautiful as your heart is pure, Jane Elliot… But I will not allow my callous step-brother to jeopardize our friendship for his own selfish ends. He would never be faithful.”

“He was certainly ready to toss poor Cerise aside a moment ago.”

“He sees women only as a means to an end… and there is _always_ an end. I do try to love him, Jane - but Anton has ambitions so high that most men would fear the heights they must climb to view them… Yet, there is no fear in Anton.”

Why hadn’t I told her yet?

“Natalia… There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you… about my money.”

I turned around, so I could face my friend, and finally revealed the bitter truth.

In my shame, I had never told my closest friend that I was broke. Perhaps I didn’t want to speak ill of the dead after my mother’s passing, or perhaps I thought Natalia may have liked me only for my money as well. But I wanted her to know.

I told her everything.

In the end, tears were flowing down my cheeks as she held me close, stroking my hair and telling me that everything would be alright. That she would always be my friend, whether I was rich or poor. She then said something that meant a lot to me, something that showed why we had remained such close friends through the long years…

“Jane, if I _ever_ had to chance to make everything right for my father… To sell everything I owned so that people would remember Charles Knight as nothing more than an honest City Planner… I would do it in a heartbeat. And it still wouldn’t repay the life he gave me.”

We embraced again, two grown women who had lost their fathers far too soon, until my beautiful friend looked at me with a mischievous look in those sapphire eyes, a wide grin spreading across her dark lips.

“And now my dearest and best friend, I believe I have solved your little quandary. With my help, we just may be able to solve all your financial woes. We only need to land you a rich husband… And I hear Bruce Wayne is available!”

We laughed like school girls and drank red wine while I quietly thanked the Fates above that they had blessed me with a true and steadfast friend like Natalia.

The very same Fates that would take her away from me...


	10. Jane vs. the Vampire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up for Jane (literally) after she witnesses Batman in a tight, blue Speedo.

Natalia Knight lived in a large, Gothic-inspired house miles away from anyone on the outskirts of Gotham. The spooky looking home had once belonged to a renowned shipbuilding family and had only left their possession when Natalia had purchased it.

She had managed to renovate and combine two of its largest rooms into an optics lab so that she could work from home - as she usually worked at night due to her aversion to sunlight. It was still old and spooky, but Natalia somehow made it home.

Every window had been coated with a special film that completely blocked ultraviolet light. Even Natalia’s LED overhead lights and lamps were filtered to allow no UV radiation whatsoever. It gave the old house an eerie quality somehow, as though the shadows were deeper than they should have been.

I had found it strange that my friend with her deadly allergy to ultraviolet radiation had chosen a career that focused on light. It was as though she were fascinated by the one thing which had been denied to her by genetic default. But that was Natalia, she had an unhealthy passion for all things dangerous.

As a result of her Solar Urticaria, Natalia had very pale skin, completely unblemished, without a single freckle or mole to be found anywhere... the kind of skin I _wished_ I had. Her pallid skin tone only seemed to highlight her deep blue eyes and luxurious black hair that tumbled like caressing silk far past her shoulders.

She was beautiful.

And she was my best friend.

After my lovely meal of Steak Diane that Natalia had ordered in for me (because I was absolutely starving), I decided to broach the reason for my visit. I had explained a little about Eduardo Flamingo - the escaped killer with a serious grudge against Harvey Bullock - but my actual reason to be in her old home concerned her employer.

“Natalia… What do you know about the personality of Arthur Light?”

“My boss? Incredibly little actually... No one’s seen him in person for years now. He sends out these video messages every so often so people remember what he looks like.”

My conscience wouldn’t rest until I at least told her what had been revealed to me that morning.

“I found out something… _disturbing_ today. Harvey told me that Arthur Light had been arrested for performing memory-altering experiments on girls about seven years ago. He settled out of court… so it never went to trial.”

Natalia placed her elbows on the table and rested her knuckles against her chin… casting an intrigued look at me that was undermined by her Cheshire grin.

“Oh… It’s ‘ _Harvey_ ’ now is it? Has my good-girl cop fallen for the bad-boy cop?”

“Oh c’mon… I’m trying to be serious here, Natalia... Did you know about Dr. Light’s experiments before you started at Light Industries?”

“No, this is the first time I’ve heard of them… And you’re blushing, you naughty Irish tramp… But I’m not surprised about the experiments. I’ve read his work. Arthur’s always proposed that thought, memory and even life itself can be transcribed into photons… Still, it’s hard to believe that he actually tried it.”

I ignored the ‘tramp’ comment. Natalia knew I hadn’t been with a man in over ten years.

“Do you think he’s continuing that research?”

Natalia shook her head thoughtfully.

“I don’t think so, Jane. His entire focus seems to be on the L.I.G.H.T. system these days.”

“Well, maybe the court settlement brought him back to reality. Or maybe it was the death of his eldest daughter that caused him to see things differently.”

“Or perhaps Doctor Light simply turned over a new leaf… As for his daughter, I honestly can’t believe he was anything _but_ relieved, Jane. Her death must have come as a welcome release… They say his daughter Ava was one of the youngest recorded cases of Dercum’s Disease ever.”

“I’m not familiar with that disease, Natalia… Is that what killed her?”

“Probably. I read about it once, a long time ago. It causes _terrible_ pain by creating these fatty tumours all over your body along the nerves. Eventually it becomes impossible to move around. My chief engineer told me that his daughter had been four hundred pounds by the time she passed away, and had lived in one room for three straight years.”

“And she was only eighteen years old, poor thing… It must have been hard on them though. It seemed to have torn his family apart after her passing.”

“Yes, his wife left him immediately after the funeral… Wait, there’s an idea! Maybe I could set you up with Arthur Light! He’s bound to be loaded! Of course, we’d have to locate him first... I wonder if he has a thing for redheads?”

“You’re awful, you know that? Besides, I’d rather just stick with the Bruce Wayne plan, thank you very much.”

“Options, Jane… Like shoes, a girl can never have too many options.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I wore black duty boots these days and that they _weren’t_ optional. The unfashionable life of a beat cop…

“There was one other thing that I wanted your ‘professional’ opinion on, Natalia… And this is going to seem like a _really_ weird question…”

I took a deep breath while Natalia continued to stare at me inquisitively.

“…Could the L.I.G.H.T. system possibly kill someone? If Arthur Light could erase memories with lasers seven years ago, would it be possible to completely wipe someone’s mind now with his gaming system?”

“That’s ridiculous, Jane… but let’s have some fun anyways and ask Batman!”

I watched as the towering figure of Batman snapped into existence beside us, dressed in his signature grey and black outfit, a symbol of fear for the criminals of Gotham. To be honest, I had been incredibly startled for a split second by his sudden appearance, but the light emanating _from_ Batman gave Natalia’s little joke away.

If I hadn’t realized that this Batman was nothing more than a hologram by now, the fact that he bowed on his knees at Natalia’s feet and addressed her as ‘My Queen’ would probably have given it away.

Although maybe the real Batman was into that sort of thing…

I watched as Natalia’s pale cheeks suddenly flushed red as she giggled guiltily.

“Oh… whoops… I guess I should have adjusted the program first... Batman, I would like you to meet my good friend Jane Elliot... Jane, this is my avatar, Batman.”

It was strange shaking hands with something that _looked_ like it was there, but wasn’t. The likeness was incredible though, even the folds of his cape shifted as he reached out to shake my hand.

So _this_ was the L.I.G.H.T system in action! Impressive, but I didn’t see any equipment.

“Natalia… I don’t even see your system, how are you even doing all this?”

“Being the engineering geek I am, I have projectors and speakers set up throughout the entire house. If only to allow dear old Batman to follow me around like a lost puppy. But also because I can change each room into anything I like… Perhaps you would prefer a rooftop?”

I watched as Natalia simply waved her hand through the air while her living room suddenly transformed into the rooftop of a Gotham City high-rise. The starry night sky was above us, a full moon suspended by its mystery. It was as though we had been instantly transported miles away, standing on top of a sixty-storey building in downtown Gotham.

Jane’s avatar, the brooding Batman stood on the edge of the rooftop, his cape fluttering in a nonexistent breeze, grimly staring at the city below… like a dark shepherd watching over his flock. If I had been impressed before, I was blown away now!

“Natalia, this is _amazing_!”

“Isn’t it?... Just be careful where you step Jane, the furniture’s still there, you just can’t see it. But you’ve had a stressful day, my dearest friend. Perhaps you would prefer something a little more relaxing... Shall we take a trip to the beach?”

Natalia clapped her hands together three times and the dark night around us transformed into bright day. The rooftop became the ocean gently tumbling into the surf while we stood on perfectly white sand. The sun shone brightly in the sky, but I couldn’t feel its warmth.

I almost wet myself laughing when I looked over at Batman… who still wore his familiar cape and cowl, but had traded in the rest of his costume for nothing more than a tight, blue Speedo. He was happily rubbing tanning oil all over his incredibly well-defined body.

“He looks great in a Speedo, but why do you have Batman as your avatar, Natalia?”

She looked reflective for a moment, lost in memory, a tiny smile creasing her dark lips.

“I saw him once… from my balloon, battling criminals on a rooftop… the same one you saw a minute ago actually. He was _magnificent_ , Jane… Like a force of nature. From that point on, I’m afraid I developed a sort of crush on Batman.

But wouldn’t we be perfect together, though? We’re both creatures of the night, and incredibly attractive… And when we got married, I wouldn’t even have to change my last name!”

“How so?”

“We’d be Mr. and Mrs. Dark _Knight_ , of course!”

All three of us laughed, _including_ Batman - who was now spreading a beach towel along the sand. Her masculine avatar had actually laughed _before_ us, which I found unnerving.

“How does he do that? He laughed before we did, Natalia… Like he actually got the joke.”

“Oh, Batman’s _very_ clever and he laughs at _all_ my little jokes… Now Jane, don’t look at me like that… Alright fine, Miss Police Officer… the L.I.G.H.T. system is powered from an artificial intelligence server that Arthur Light himself designed. That’s why you need a network connection to interface with your avatar. It learns and adapts to a user’s traits and their personality… and laughs at all their cornball jokes.”

“That’s… spooky.”

Natalia’s goofy grin slowly crept back.

“Isn’t it, though? It’s what sets the L.I.G.H.T. system apart from our competition. Other companies can create interactive holographic landscapes but none of them have been able to replicate the AI... You could say we’re… _light_ years ahead!”

Batman chuckled again… even if I had lost my sense of humour. I suddenly realized why young people all over America had become hopelessly addicted to the L.I.G.H.T. system. It was like having a best friend that could be anyone you wanted that you could also reprogram. An illusionary companion with a computer’s mind whom you could live your life with… in a world of your own choosing.

It sounded too good to be true.

“Could this system _harm_ someone, Natalia? I know of three young men who have dropped dead in front of it. One of them was Jordan Hill, the former Mayor’s son, that we found this morning.”

As a long-term employee of Light Industries, I had probably offended her.

“It’s no more dangerous than any other holographic projector, Jane. Someone might get shocked if there was an electrical short… just like _all_ electrical equipment. We have an entire department dedicated to strict adherence of federal safety regulations.”

“That’s not what I mean, Natalia… Could it take someone’s thoughts… someone’s memories, like what Arthur Light had attempted seven years ago... Is that even possible?”

Natalia was now sitting beside Batman, gazing dreamily down at his rock hard (and well-oiled) midsection. For his part, Batman was content just to lie on his back and happily gaze up at the projected blue sky, not a care in the world. She knew I wouldn’t let it go though. She knew me too well for that.

“Batman, my love…” asked an infatuated Natalia. “Is this thing that my persistent friend Jane is on about even possible? She won’t have _any_ fun until she finds out. As the world’s greatest detective, I would expect you to know, dearest.”

Batman continued to look up, his oiled body glistening in the sunlight.

“Anything is possible, my night-scented rose… even our love.”

Natalia blushed a little and grinned giddily at me.

“My, my… he’s feeling _extra_ frisky tonight… But as she’s a police officer, we need to put my friend’s mind at ease, dearest. Now tell me truthfully, the L.I.G.H.T. system had nothing to do with those boys’ death, did it?”

Was it my imagination or did it suddenly get colder?

I was shocked to see our artificial landscape change once more.

Gone were the sand dunes and the calm ocean, replaced by night-darkened moors and heavy, rolling mists. In the distance, an ancient castle obscured by patches of fog lay beyond a winding path. A full moon hung to its left while Batman stood before us, tall and foreboding, the owner of two immense bull mastiffs sitting at his feet, obediently awaiting his command.

He was lordly and terrifying, the dark master of the night. His intense gaze rested fully upon my pale hostess as he answered.

“I am forever faithful, Natalia… I gave them nothing they did not wish for.”

Natalia looked around, the anxiety in her eyes suddenly apparent. Something wasn’t right.

“…I’m sorry Jane, this has never happened before... It’s some sort of malfunction, my system must have picked up someone else’s landscape.”

Without a single step, Batman hovered directly in front of Natalia, his piercing gaze tearing into her soul as he reached out his gloved hand for her to accept. As he spoke, I swore that I saw… fangs?!

“Dearest Natalia… This is the landscape you hold for us in your heart. Behold! My castle awaits… Join me and I shall make you my Queen of the Night. For the price of one single taste of your beauty, I shall grant you immortality, my love… To never grow old, your immortal beauty preserved forever…”

I watched as Natalia’s cheeks turned a bright shade of crimson. As someone who had been forced to lead the life of a vampire, it seemed natural for her to have fantasies about them.

Natalia smiled at me and gave me a reassuring wink.

“Oh, Batman… I _do_ love this little scenario you’ve cooked up for us… but we’ll have to save it for another night darling, when I don’t have company…”

I saw Natalia eyes suddenly grow wide, her face twisting into an expression of abject terror as Batman suddenly took my best friend into his muscular arms and pushed her chin aside, opening his mouth revealing pointed, long canines poised above her pale neck.

“There will only be one night, my love… Our eternal night together!”

Natalia screamed for all she was worth…

While normally, I would have went for my gun, or my mace spray, or my nightstick, I had none of those things on me, so I did the first thing that came to mind instead. A part of my self-defence training that I had thoroughly enjoyed.

The part about punching people.

I launched a looping overhand right, backed by everything my one hundred and forty pounds could muster. My Great-Grandfather had been Riley ‘Irish Thunder’ Elliot, a prize fighter who had made his name on the mean streets of Gotham with nothing more than his bloodied fists.

I’m sure Great Granddaddy would have been damned proud of the haymaker I just slammed into Batman’s head. As I struck with wild abandon, my fist connected with _something_ solid… but not exactly a skull. It was hard-shelled, warm, and squishy inside.

Vampire Batman melted into a pile of disgusting, grey ooze and then faded into the fog, while I embraced Natalia. My poor friend was literally shaking in fear. Her frightened blue eyes stared wildly up at me while her hands dug into my shoulders, clinging for some grip on sanity.

“Jane… Oh my God…He was _real_!... He was real! We have to unplug the system!!!”

That actually made sense. But there was one small problem. I had no idea where she kept her system.

“Show me where it is, Natalia. Come on!”

As Natalia rose to her feet to aid me in my mission, I realized that this nightmare was far from over. I stopped dead in my tracks as I watched the mists in front of us spiral upwards in a small cyclone, twisting into the foreboding figure of…

Batman.

“Natalia, my love… I must have your answer. Only say the word and you shall become Nocturna, Queen of the Night. Join me in the world you have made for us.”

Natalia just stared at the holographic Batman that hovered before us, an invincible Lord of the Night. His heavy, darkened glare bore into Natalia as though the entire world rested upon her chilling answer…

Perhaps it did.

“It _was_ you… You killed those boys.”

“Killed? I gave them immortality… As I would give it to you, my most beautiful creator.”

Natalia buried her hands into her hair as the sad realization struck home.

“No!... Arthur you idiot! What have you done?!”

A wicked smile crossed Batman’s lips, revealing the glistening tips of his fangs. The darkness behind him lifted as the fog suddenly dissipated… The sunrise crested the brightened moors beyond his fluttering cape.

He left us with one final warning.

“You have cast your _own_ Fate, my love. If you will not enter into the Darkness, then you shall suffer the wrath of Light!!!”

As the first rays of morning struck Batman, he instantly turned into a puff of smoke like some stage magician’s trick. The virtual sun broke across an artificial horizon, basking us in the warm light of a new day. Natalia whimpered beside me, clutching my arm.

“It’s alright, Natalia… he’s gone now. It’s only your system making a sunrise, it’s not real. You’ll be fine. Let’s turn off your system…”

But something was wrong. She cowered behind me, as I could hear her heartbreaking moans.

I felt the heat of this recreated sunrise on my face while the overpowering ball of light constantly traveled upwards, soon blinding me with its radiance. The scenery of the room itself transformed into the surface of a sun, radiating heat. I glanced backwards to see the first hives start to appear on Natalia’s exposed skin.

Ultraviolet light!!!

Her L.I.G.H.T. system was somehow flooding us with UV light, giving me a sunburn and putting Natalia’s life in peril. I knew my friend would soon go into anaphylactic shock with this kind of exposure… And I had to get her out, now!

Shielding my eyes with my arm, I quickly glanced around and saw what appeared to be a mirror ten feet away from me, hovering on the bright surface of the sun… of course! It was her window! Her special UV film was reflecting the system’s beams, making her windows appear as mirrors.

Grasping along the holographic surface of the sun - where I had recalled a coffee table to be - I finally felt its firm wooden structure in my hand and hoisted it up, advancing towards the window. To my surprise, a young woman who couldn’t have been any older than twenty suddenly appeared between me and my target, the window.

She was thin, with long black hair that seemed to flow all the way to her feet. A simple white dress billowed around her lean body. There was a hatred in those black eyes of hers that angered me. She spoke in a venomous tone…

“She is _mine_!!”

Is that so? I punctuated my response by throwing the coffee table _through_ her, smashing Natalia’s large plate glass window into shards of glass that tumbled to the grass below. The hateful illusion faded from view as I spoke my farewell...

“Out of my way, bitch.”

I felt around for the next thing I needed, a beautiful Moon and Stars blanket that Natalia had draped over her couch that sat in front of the smashed window. Wrapping the blanket around my fist, I used its thick cover to knock out the rest of the dangerous shards of glass jutting like daggers along the window frame.

I was going to have to carry Natalia through it after all.

Uncoiling the blanket, I ran back to where Natalia had collapsed on the floor and draped it over her - to protect her from further exposure. Before the thick blanket fell over her arms, I cringed as I glanced at the mass of hives that had formed all over her skin. Her breathing was already sporadic with each breath becoming an effort.

Even though we were close to the same size, sheer adrenaline let me carry Natalia as though she were a little girl. I launched us through the opening I had made in the window, narrowly missing the coffee table on the other side as I landed.

I carried my friend to the darkness, where the bright lights from her home that now illuminated her lonely street like a mad disco ball couldn’t reach her. Laying her gently down and recalling all of my first aid, I started mouth-to-mouth, attempting to get some air past her swollen throat. The whole time I was praying to God that I wouldn’t have to start CPR or even worse… a ballpoint tracheotomy.

I needed to call 911.

But my purse, which also had my police radio, was still inside the house. I vividly remembered putting it on the floor beside Natalia’s own purse… which would also have her Epinephrine auto-injector.

Natalia wasn’t getting any better. She was gasping for each shallow breath, but at least she was still breathing. I knew she would go into anaphylactic shock soon if I didn’t get her help. Putting the coffee table erect on the grass, I used it to climb back through the window into the maelstrom of light.

As I entered, the light transformed into the image of a raging fire as I saw _her_ again… the black-haired girl floating above the ground as her long white dress danced in the flames of hatred. She cursed my very existence with a stare of pure evil.

Undaunted, I locked my own steely gaze back onto hers…

“Don’t worry, you skinny, little bitch… I’ll be coming back for you.”

With no more time to waste, I made my way to the front entrance and retrieved both purses, bravely tromping through holographic flames that roared into life all around me. Natalia’s entire home now seemed to be burning with rage. Fine, let it. Instead of leaping through the window again, I simply unlocked the main door and exited.

Strange, I could have sworn I even _smelled_ smoke…

Making my way back to the prone Natalia, I reached into her purse and retrieved the one thing that might save her life… Quickly jabbing the Epinephrine auto-injector straight into her thigh, my frantic mind reeled back to the person who had instructed me on its use, her adopted father, Charles Knight.

Let’s hope it worked.

I snapped on my police radio.

“This is Officer Jane Elliot. I need an emergency response at 1187 Hunterwasser Street!!! I have a Code 3, female in anaphylactic shock…”

The first real flames erupted from Natalia’s broken window five minutes later, prompting me to drag my friend to the far edge of her yard. When the ambulance arrived fifteen minutes later, her beautiful old house had become a blazing inferno, lighting up the night sky.

All that she had built was gone.


End file.
